Fallout : The Lone Wanderer
by General Von Cheeseburger
Summary: "Revelation 21:6. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and end. I shall give unto him who is athirst the fountain of the waters of life freely."
1. Chapter 1 : The Beginning and the End

**Author's notes: Hello everyone. This is the second time I publish something Fallout related here. I have already publish a few chapters of this novel, but in French (my native language), and wanted to try it out in English.**

**I consider myself as being fluent in English, but there might still be mistakes or "rough" translations, so I apologize in advance. With that being said, please enjoy, and do not hesitate to review (positive or negative).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any rights on the Fallout universe, characters, etc... I did however put a few narrative things and character to ease the story development and make it (I hope) more enjoyable/credible.**

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The alarm was howling in the room, a large rotunda where a control room was installed, built around a bronze statue of a man, an emblematic figure of a long-forgotten past. The statue was bathed in water that was almost entirely opaque. The floor of the control room was littered with electrical wires and cables, and against the walls, consoles and computers, whose screens displayed lines of calculations and whose diodes lit up at an alarming rate.

The young man was standing in a closed airlock. He was calm, serene, despite the annoying alarm ringing in his ears. He put his blue eyes on a spot on the floor in front of him, on the other side of the door. A sad smile appeared on his face as he looked up at the statue. He ran his left hand through his messy brown hair, and let it fall back onto his face and grazed his cheeks, which were covered by a small beard.

"Well, here we are...," he said. "Everything is going to end where it started. The circle is finally complete."

He turned his head and saw a control panel, used to lock and unlock the doors. He put his right hand, covered in blood, on the switch. He pressed the button and the door slid open with a whistle. The young man heard a crackling sound from a small grey computer bracelet, strapped on his left wrist. The crackling intensified as he entered the control room and the young man felt tingling all over his body. He walked towards the main console and as he moved, he remembered all the events that had led him to this situation.

Gone. Gone? The word resonated like a haunting echo, repeating itself over and over in Damian's brain. The young man opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. He blinked several times and shook his head quickly.

"Wait... What?"

"Your father, he left the Vault! He's gone"

The words spoken by Amata Almodovar, his lifelong friend, were like a punch in the stomach.

"My father can't have left the Vault! He can't be..."

"I don't know how he did it, but he left... And... My dad... He..."

The young man got up from his bed and stared at her. The young woman was on the verge of tears. As far as he could remember, Damian had never seen her so upset and frightened. He came closer and reached for Amata's shoulders and tried to reassure her.

"What's going on Amata?"

The young Hispanic woman burst into tears.

"It's Jonas! They..."

"Wha... What?"

"Oh, my God, they killed him! They hit him over and over and they wouldn't stop!"

She pulled away and looked around.

"You've got to get out of here, quick! My father's men are looking for you!"

As Damian tried to assimilate what he had just heard, he realized that the Vault's alarm was sounding.

"Wait, I don't understand..."

"My father think you knew about your dad's departure! He thought Jonas knew something too! And now he's looking for you! He thinks you helped him get out of the Vault!"

"I... No! I had no idea my dad wanted to leave!"

They heard voices in the corridor. Amata leaned back and glanced at the front door of her friend's apartment.

"Listen, you have to leave," she said, lowering her voice. "You have to leave the Vault too."

The image of Jonas, her father's young assistant, bathed in a pool of blood passed before Damian's eyes. The look in his friend's eyes made him stop protesting.

"There is a tunnel between my father's office and the exit. You'll have to go through there and open the door."

"Ok... Ok... The office, the tunnel, the door. Got it."

Amata walked away to look through the door again. When she turned around, she saw Damian, his sports bag stamped with the Vault-Tec logo at his feet, frantically throwing the few things he had in his dresser, a ball and a baseball glove, a red cap, a small Vault-Boy figurine brandishing a large syringe and a picture of him and his father, inside a small frame.

"Oh, one more thing."

Damian turned to his friend. Amata put her hands behind her back and pulled out a 10mm pistol.

"I stole my father's gun, I hope you won't have to use it but..."

She couldn't finish her sentence. Damian took the gun in his hands. He observed it for a moment, in silence, and hung it on his belt behind his back.

"You have to go now."

"But what about you?" Damian asked, grabbing an old BB gun and putting it in his bag.

Amata gave him a smile.

"Don't worry about me. I'll try to meet you at the door if I can. Now go. And, please, be careful."

She quickly hugged the young man before leaving the room. Damian looked around him for a few seconds, staring at his bed, the few pieces of furniture in the room, the dull grey walls, typical of Vault-Tec's fallout shelters.

Damian opened the door of his apartment. The lights in the Vault flickered before going out, then came back on again when the emergency generator took over a few seconds later. The alarm continued to sound. Regularly the Overseer's voice echoed through the hallway's speakers, warning not to interfere with the security guards.

Radroaches had broken into the Vault. Damian was hoping to take advantage of the confusion to sneak to Amata's father's office.

As soon as he came out of his room, he saw a silhouette at the end of the corridor.

"There! There he is!"

Damian froze, looking at Officer Kendall, crammed into his vault suit a little too tight, his black Kevlar vest and wearing a security helmet with a plexiglass visor on, walking towards him and unfolding his police baton. The young man glanced around in panic and noticed the door leading to the restromms. As he started to move towards the door, Kendall's voice stopped him.

"Fucking cockroaches! Where the hell are they coming from?"

Several Radroaches were crawling around the security guard. One of them jumped on his belly and started biting him, quickly imitated by the others. Kendall began to jump around, as he tried to get rid of the roaches crawling over his body.

Damian took this opportunity to escape. As he looked over his shoulder to make sure Kendall was still struggling with the Radroaches, he ran into someone and fell on the ground. As he looked up, he realized he'd bumped into Butch, his classmate and one of the Vault bullies. Instead of the tough guy look he usually had, his face was twisted by panic.

"You've got to help me! My mommy's stuck with the Radroaches!"

Damian was about to ignore him when he heard footsteps behind him. He pushed Butch through the door leading to his and his mother's quarters and rushed in.

"I can't help you, Butch," Damian whispered, trying to discern whether the footsteps were real or coming out of his imagination.

The cries of Butch's mother in the next room echoed.

"Please! Please! You've got to help her!"

Damian glanced out of their small bedroom window, but saw no one. Butch's mother called for help a second time. The young man's imploring gaze crossed Damian's eye. He put down his bag, opened it and took out his BB gun. Damian could hardly believe that he was going to help the man who had bullied him all his life. He opened the door and entered the room.

The floor was littered with empty vodka bottles and food stamps. Mrs. DeLoria was standing on a table and was screaming for help, dancing from one foot to the other, her eyes fixed on the three Radroaches who were slowly crawling on the floor. At first glance, Damian could hardly believe that Butch DeLoria, a _"Tunnel Snake,"_ one of the bullies of the Vault, always ready to pick a fight, was afraid of a few roaches.

Damian took aim with his rifle. The familiar feeling, he had felt every time he had practiced shooting with his father or with Amata, near the Vault's reactor, overwhelmed him as he remembered his father's advice.

_"Aim, breathe and shoot."_

The lead was ejected from the barrel and pierced the back of the giant cockroach, killing it instantly. The other two Radroaches quickly followed. Putting the gun away, Damian felt Butch pat him on the back.

"Oh thank you! My mom is safe!"

His joy stopped abruptly when someone banged on the door. Damian recognized Officer Kendall's voice. He must have gotten rid of the Radroaches that were attacking him.

The young man's eyes met Butch's. Butch readjusted his leather jacket, signaled Damian to be quiet and walked to the door. Damian stood still, convinced that he was trapped. He saw Butch's mother's frightened gaze and heard the door sliding and Kendall's voice.

"Hey, we're looking for the Doc's son, have you seen him?"

"Oh, sure I have, Officer Kendall!"

Damian's heart stopped beating for a microsecond, until he heard Butch continue.

"He went that way. If you hurry, you might be able to catch him."

"Great!" said the security guard. "If you see him again, call me or the others!"

Damian heard Kendall's footsteps in the corridor. Butch returned to the room and looked at him.

"What, did you really think I was going to snitch you?"

Damian mumbled a few words, surprised by the so atypical attitude of the young delinquent. He walked past Butch and walked towards the door when he heard his voice.

"Look, I'm sorry about the... You know, the fights and everything..."

Damian didn't answer and just shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to stay here any longer waiting for Kendall or another security guard to come back.

"Watch your back out there."

Damian faced the Tunnel Snake and nodded. He left the DeLoria's room and walked up a set of stairs. When he reached the top, his face found himself face to face with a fist that crashed into his jaws. Damian fell backward on the floor. As he opened his eyes, he saw Officer Kendall, his face and his uniform slashed and covered with scratches and blood stains, facing him.

"You little bastard, you think you can escape the Law?"

Damian stood up and massaged his jaw. He could feel a warm, unpleasant tasting liquid in his mouth. Kendall twirled his police baton in his hand and struck. Damian dodged the blow as best he could before he got the security guard's knee in his stomach.

"My orders are to take you back to the Overseer, but apparently it won't be without breaking a few bones of yours in the process!"

Damian's gun slipped on the floor. He and Kendall looked at the gun and took a quick look at each other. Kendall dropped his baton and leaned on the floor to retrieve the gun. Damian was quicker than him and grabbed the gun. Kendall rushed at him and tried to disarm him. The two men started to struggle, and Kendall pinned Damian against the wall. A gunshot roared and Damian felt a hot and sticky liquid of his face. Officer Kendall let go and fell to his knees, holding his throat, blood gushing from his mouth and neck. An unpleasant gurgling sound came out of his mouth and bubbles of blood burst every time he moved his lips to speak. He fell backwards and his body tumbled down the stairs.

Damian dropped the gun and exhaled loudly. His head was spinning. He leaned forward, putting his hands on his thighs, trying to catch his breath. He became nauseous. A hoarse sound came out of his mouth as he tried not to vomit.

He had just killed someone. The expression on Officer Kendall's face, as he tried to mend the pieces of his torn throat, blood coming out of his nose and mouth and slowly flowing down his uniform, was etched on his retina. Damian coughed and spat. He could fell his heart was beating faster. The alarm that was still ringing gave him a headache.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He staggered and his eyes landed on the gun that was on the floor. His father had taught him to handle weapons. Shooting Radroaches was excellent training and helped to protect the Vault, but he never thought he would have to shoot someone and kill a human being.

Footsteps and shouts from the floor where Kendall's body took him out of his lethargic state. If the Vault security found him, they weren't just going to take him back to the Overeer after beating him. They were going to kill him. He picked up the gun and ran.

The young man walked past one of the Vault's cafeterias, the same one where nine years earlier he had turned 10. As the memories came flooding back, he saw the body of a woman, lying on her back in the middle of the cafeteria, with several Radroaches crawling around her. Damian pressed forward. The Overseer's voice continued to regularly call out to the Vault residents, telling them that the Radroaches infestation was under control and that anyone who had information on Damian were to report to security.

The young man climbed up some stairs, until a voice called out to him. He looked up and saw a figure in a security uniform. Damian froze, unable to react. To his surprise, the security guard raised his hands in surrender. He approached and Damian recognized Officer Gomez's face.

"You're lucky you ran into me and not..."

Herman Gomez frowned and saw the blood on the young man's face and suit.

"It's Officer Kendall, he... I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to do it!"

"Look," said Gomez. "I don't want to know what you're up to or what you've done! Let's just pretend we haven't seen each other. You have to go and find your father before the others get their hands on you."

Damian could see that Gomez was shocked, like he saw something he would have rather not.

"Poor Jonas, Officer Mack has completely lost it. You should leave. Go find your father. Good luck."

Gomez walked away, leaving Damian alone. The young man watched him disappear down the stairwell before continuing to run. He walked past his dad's clinic. The young man slowed down and approached the entrance. Several Radroaches fled, pursued by Andy, Vault 101 Mister Handy robot. Damian stepped aside just in time to see the robot fire his flamethrower. The crackling of the charred cockroaches' shells reached the young man's ears, followed by the hissing of cooking insects.

_"Oh Mr. Franklin, are you looking for your father? I'm afraid you just missed him. He went upstairs for fresh air. »_

Stanley, one of the Vault's maintenance staff broke into the hallway, brandishing a wrench and looking around, excited and scared.

_"The cockroaches are dead, Stanley. There's no need to panic anymore,"_ Andy mockingly said.

The technician seemed to relax. He noticed Damian's presence and seemed surprised.

"It's you everyone's looking for. Your father always took care of us, as far as I'm concerned, so don't worry. You should get out of here before security shows up."

The old man turned to the robot and opened a control panel, exposing wires and cables. Damian entered the clinic. The place had been torn apart. The work of Andy and the roaches or the Overseer's men? It was impossible for Damian to answer that question. His father's desk was overturned, his papers and files scattered all over the room and his terminal had suffered a fall from the desk. Damian searched quickly, convinced that he could find a note, anything from his father, explaining why he had left without telling him.

Time was running out and reluctantly the young man left the clinic. On the way out, he heard Stanley arguing with someone.

"Let me through, you idiot!"

"Hey! There he is!"

Two security guards shoved Stanley and rushed at Damian. He started running. Behind him he heard a bang, then a rattle beside him. Small pieces of concrete landed at his feet. A second gunshot roared, and he heard a whistle near his right ear.

Damian opened the door leading to the Vault's Atrium. He closed it, removed the control box and ripped out the electrical wires. The door opened on a few centimeters before it jammed.

"That bastard, he blocked the door!"

Damian took a few steps back before turning around. The Atrium was empty. Hearing shouts, Damian, hid behind one of the pillars. He saw two residents, a man and a woman, heading towards a corridor leading to the entrance of the Vault.

"We've got to get out of here, just like the doc!"

"No Tom, that's too dangerous!"

Damian recognized Tom and Mary Holden's voices. He saw one of them rushed into the hallway, raising his hands in the air and screaming.

"Hey! It's me Tom, Tom Holden."

His sentence was barely finished when several shots rang out. Mary ran into the hallway, screaming her husband's name. Her voice stopped abruptly when more shots rang out.

Damian closed his eyes and ran out. He crossed the Atrium. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bodies of the two spouses lying on the ground, two security guards leaning over them, arguing over who had fired first.

Damian climbed more steps and arrived upstairs. All the doors were locked except one, which led to a maintenance room. He went inside. If his memory was good, he could reach Amata and his father's quarters and the Overseer's office through there. However, he would first have to pass by the Vault's cells and the Security station.

"It's your fault, you little shit! Your fault and your father's!"

Damian ignored the man shouting at him from the window of his apartment and entered the maintenance room. Other Radroaches were crawling into the room, feasting on the body of a resident that Damian couldn't identify. He left the maintenance room and bumped into the Vault Security Chief, Paul Hannon Sr.

"Thought you could get away from us, huh?"

He smacked Damian with his baton. The young man backed away just in time to avoid getting his skull bashed in. Damian was about to draw his weapon when the memory of Kendall's dead body flashed before his eyes, making him froze. Hannon took the opportunity to strike him in the ribs. The Chief of security then raised his baton and smacked Damian, who grabbed the baton. The shock went all the way up his arm to his shoulder. Damian kicked his opponent's in the crotch, who fell on his knees before being knocked out with a punch to the face.

Damian looked at his hand. If Hannon had hit harder, his hand would have been broken. Luckily, the leather glove of his Pip-Boy had also cushioned the blow. The young man picked up the baton and put it in the pocket of his suit.

The Security station was straight ahead. Damian crouched down and approached discreetly. He hadn't seen a guard since his fight with Paul Hannon Sr. He looked out the window and was left speechless.

Amata was sitting in a chair facing his father, Alphonse Almodovar, the Overseer of Vault 101 and one of his security guards, whom Damian recognized as Officer Mack. When he saw him, Damian thoughts drifted to Jonas, beaten to death. His jaw tightened. The irresistible urge to put a bullet in Mack's head overwhelmed him. The disgust he felt towards him when he killed Officer Kendall was gone.

"Tell me where he is, Amata!"

"I told you, Daddy! I don't know where he is!"

Damian raised his head. Amata was on the verge of tears, begging her father to leave her alone. Alphonse Almodovar sighed and waved to Officer Mack.

"You better start talking girl!" said the security guard menacingly.

He raised his baton in a threatening manner. Amata screamed, raising her hands for protection. Damian's body moved by itself. In a split second, he had drawn his gun, entered the room and pointed it at the two men.

"Leave her alone!" he shouted.

Mack and the Overseer turned around, and Amata stood up from her chair, her face lit up at the sight of her friend. She walked towards Damian and hid behind him.

"Well, I hope you've come to surrender, young man," said the Overseer with a slight arrogant smile.

"I'm going to get out of here and you're going to leave me alone and you're not going to raise your hand to Amata again!" Damian cried out in a trembling voice.

"You think you can get away with this?" shouted the Overseer. "James, your father, ran away from the Vault, putting us all in danger, wreaking havoc by letting a horde of Radroaches into the Vault! Don't make things worse, and hand over your weapons!"

The Overseer waved to Mack, who smiled and walked towards Damian. The young man pointed his gun directly at him. His hands were shaking so much that he tightened his grip on the gun handle even more. He saw the image of Kendall's face with his throat torn by the gunshot pass before his eyes.

'You think I'm afraid of you? You make me laugh. You're just like your father, an arrogant little fuck who thinks he's above it all. Look at you, you're shaking like a leaf. You ain't gonna do nothing to me cause you ain't got the balls to pull the trigger."

He stepped forward again.

"The Overseer was ready for me to beat the shit out of his beloved daughter, so imagine what I can do to you."

Damian lowered his gun and pulled the trigger. He wanted to fire a warning shot but instead, the bullet went right through Mack's ankle. The security guard screamed and collapsed on the ground. Amata put her hands on her face, looking terrified. Damian stayed a few seconds to watch Officer Mack, the images of Kendall's dead body flashing before his eyes. He pivoted to the Overseer and pointed his gun at him.

"No! Don't shoot! Please don't shoot!"

Amata stood in front of Damian, begging him not to shoot. He caught sight of Alphonse Almodovar. The Overseer was trying his best to hide his fear by looking authoritative. Damian lowered his eyes to Officer Mack, who was squirming with pain on the ground, crying. He felt Amata pushing him towards the exit. He lowered his weapon and walked away with her.

The Overseer's quarters weren't too far away. On the way, they crossed a room turned upside down. In the center, the body of Jonas, almost unrecognizable. Huddled up in a pool of blood. His body was covered with open fractures, bruises and gashes, and his right temple seemed to have been crushed by a violent blow.

Damian approached and knelt. He was about to raise Jonas' arms to see his face, but he stopped. He put his hand on his friend's body. As he did, he felt something stiff inside one of the pockets of Jonas' blouse. Damian searched and pulled out a grey holotape, slightly damaged, probably during the beating. A label had been stuck on it.

_"For Damian"_

The young man recognized his father's handwriting. He put the tape in his pocket and got up, leaving Jonas' body behind.

The Overseer's office was impeccably clean. Amata wiped the tears from her cheeks and activated her father's terminal. A hissing sound was heard. The desk and the concrete slab to which it was attached lifted a few inches and slid down, revealing a secret staircase.

Amata ran down the steps, followed closely by Damian, who closed the passage behind them. The tunnel was unguarded, and they quickly reached the entrance of the Vault. Damian hung his pistol on his belt and walked toward the control console of the door.

As he activated the main switch, an alarm sounded, and an orange light flashed in the room. A heavy metal screw came down from the ceiling and inserted itself into a gigantic steel door in the shape of a gear. The door creaked as the giant screw pulled it towards a rail. A fresh draft of air rushed into the Vault, bringing with it a strange feeling of freedom. The door rolled slowly on the side, revealing a cave.

Damian walked towards the door. To his surprise, the Geiger counter built into his Pip-Boy didn't sizzle. He raised his head and looked at the end of the cave. He could see a faint beam of white light. A simple beam of light that seemed so different from the bland neon light of the Vault.

The young man felt the threshold of his door against his feet. One more step and he would be out of the Vault. One more step, and he would have given up everything he had ever known to enter a world he knew nothing about.

"My God... You did it!"

The young man turned towards Amata. She had stayed by the control console, obviously not daring to come any closer.

"Thank you for your help Amata."

"No," the young woman smiled. "You could have done it by yourself. I should be thanking you instead. If it wasn't for you... I don't know what my father would have been able to do."

He walked up to his friend and stood in front of her.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all this," Damian whispered. "I'll find my father and I'll come back. I promise you."

The young woman hugged him. Amata released her embrace and kissed Damian on the cheek.

"You must leave. Go find your father. I... I'll miss you."

Her voice was distorted by sadness and her eyes were clouded with tears. One of the doors leading to the main maintenance area of the Vault opened on the fly. Several security guards, accompanied by the Overseer, burst in. One of the guards raised his gun. The Overseer put the gun down, shouting to his men not to fire, as that they could hit his daughter.

Damian looked at Amata one last time and ran to the door. Behind him, he heard the entrance alarm and the heavy gear door squeaking. He hid behind a rock and waited, gun in hand. A long metallic squeaking followed by a heavy slamming sounded in the cave. He left his hiding place. The heavy steel door had closed behind him. He stood for a few seconds looking at the huge door and the number _"101"_ painted on it, the same number that was on the back of his Vault suit.

He took a deep breath and turned around, heading for the ray of light at the end of the cave. He heard crackling noises under his boots and as he looked down, he realized he was surrounded by dead bodies. Human bones of all sizes, some still wearing shreds of clothing, others still holding signs, on which imploring messages were written.

Damian stared at the human remains for a few second and walked slowly toward the outside. The new world he had just entered had just thrown in his face a tiny part of the horror it had in reserve.

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**Hope you all enjoyed this first chapter. Until next time.**


	2. Chapter 2 : A new world

**Hi! Hope you all enjoyed the previous chapter, and that the translation I made was comprehensible. Enjoy this second chapter.**

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Damian exited the cave and was immediately blinded by a bright, white, warm light. He closed his eyes and protected his face with his arm. A whistle reached his ears and he felt a draft in his hair. His eyes burned him. He opened them slowly, fearing that he had gone blind. To his great relief, the blur of light he perceived dissipated quickly.

He was standing on a small rocky mound, overlooking a road. In front of him, a desolate, rocky landscape, with large, thick black stems coming out of the ground. Trees. Quite different from what Damian had seen in the children's books he had read in the Vault as a kid.

He was speechless and gazed at this surreal landscape. The road under him was heading towards a small town with half collapsed wooden houses. The only things still standing were small one-story houses, a water tower, as well as a strange red cone-shaped sculpture and a large concrete building.

Damian took his eyes off the gutted houses. What amazed him the most, was the blinding star in the sky. The sky, grey, immense, oppressive. The sun. He had always imagined seeing the sky and the sun, based on photos in books or on the few Vault-Tec posters on some of the walls, and now he had them before his eyes. Damian turned his eyes to the landscape. He had never seen so much space. Never had his gaze been so far away, he who was used to always have a grey wall or ceiling in his field of vision.

In the distance, other, larger buildings stretched out. Two stood out from the others, a large obelisk tower, which dominated all the others by its size, and a large building topped by a dome.

The landscape that stretched before his eyes was the result of two hours of intensive bombing. Two brief hours, during which the atomic fire had engulfed the world. Two hours, to illustrate the culmination of the bloody struggle between the mighty of the old world.

By a banal gesture, with a single push of a button on a control panel, the leaders of the United States, Communist China and the European Commonwealth had sealed the fate of humanity, turning it from the dominant species on Earth, several billion strong, to a handful of survivors clinging to the water and air filters of their atomic shelters.

What caught Damian's attention was a heap of sheet metal. Parts of the construction looked like something he had seen in a book in the Vault on airplanes. Pieces of fuselage, engines and wings. Above, Damian noticed something slowly spinning in the sky.

Birds! He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, but he wasn't. The birds were there, black and of various sizes, circling above this strange structure. As he listened, the young man could hear noises coming from this strange structure.

Everything seemed unreal. The barren, lifeless world, the radioactive desert described by the adults at the Vault, by the Overseer, by his father, it was all false. Reality quickly caught up with Damian. He didn't know how long his father had been gone. Looking again at the devastated landscape before him, he realized he could be anywhere. The young man felt insignifiant. A sand grain lost in the vastness of the new world that lay before him.

"Where are you Dad?" Damian whispered.

The wind blew gently, lifting sand and dust at the young man's feet. The adrenaline that had built up during his escape from the Vault was beginning to subside. He felt a pain in his left hand, where Chief Hannon had hit him. He took his Pip-Boy glove off and found that he had a bruise across his palm. He also had difficulty closing his hand. Damian grimaced and raised his head.

He was intrigued by this strange mass of metal and airplane parts. He decided to go there, if only to satisfy his curiosity. If people lived there, they could also tell him about his father and this new world.

Damian came down from the rocky mound that overlooked the area, passing human bones half buried in the sand and earth. The road he walked down was extremely damaged. The young man walked towards the ruined city he had seen. At the edges of the road, the remains, eaten away by the rust, of a guardrail and a strange, cone-shaped vehicle with a large shattered window and a leather seat inside.

When Damian arrived near the houses, he was even more seized by the state of destruction of the place. The wooden houses could hardly stand upright, some of them being reduced to a vulgar pile of charred planks. The road was littered with all kinds of trash, twisted cans, empty soda bottles, paper, rusty pieces of metal. It reminded him of one of the films he had seen in the Vault about the devastating effects of a nuclear explosion. The scale of the destruction he was witnessing was far worse than in the film.

He followed the road, looking steadily up into the sky at the swarm of birds that slowly circled. The young man fell on a corrugated, rusty iron panel, welded to two posts. On the sheet metal had been inscribed in yellow letters the word _"Megaton",_ followed by an arrow roughly indicating the direction of the strange structure.

_"Megaton"_. The first thing that came to Damian's mind when he read this name was the same film he had thought of earlier. The word referred to the unit used to measure an atomic explosion.

As he was about to go on his way, he saw a small metal sphere, a little bigger than a human head, covered with antennas, flying slowly in his direction. At first glance it looked like a robot, but Damian didn't know what model it might be. The robot was playing music, a lively, martial-sounding tune. The robot flew by Damian and completely ignored him. The young man watched it fly away before he went on his way. A remnant of the old world, a relic, built by people who had been dead for centuries, who continued to roam this desert as if nothing had happened and who endeavored to broadcast the same radio frequency that had been assigned to it.

The structure Damian had seen from the promontory leading to the Vault was a city. At least, that was the impression it gave. Big walls of metal, lookouts, masts held by cables and ropes. What he assumed to be the entrance consisted of several airplane wings surmounted by a jet engine.

Subjugated by this vision, Damian didn't notice the orange mass extending at his feet. He stumbled and crashed headfirst into the sand. As he turned around, he saw that he had stepped into what looked like a giant ant, almost bigger than him. He jumped and crawled quickly away from the insect. The ant did not move. Damian drew his gun and approached cautiously. With the tip of his foot, he shook the giant ant. The insect remained still. He noticed that the creature had a large hole in its head, a gunshot wound. As he looked around, he realized that there were three more bodies of these ants, all with gunshot wounds to the head. Proof that people advanced enough to use firearms were living in the area, contrary to what the Overseer had always repeated, that the outside world could not support any other life form other than mutant cockroaches.

Damian shivered, realizing that he probably would probably be dead, if those ants had been alive. He climbed a small slope up to the door. Just above the reactor, on a catwalk, a man dressed in military combat armor was looking at the landscape through a pair of binoculars. Damian noticed the sniper rifle that was on his shoulder. The young man went from surprise to surprise and was convinced that this world had more secrets or horrors in store for him.

Damian approached when a voice called out to him. He turned his head and saw a man in rags sitting in the middle of a pile of trash and a rusty car, waving at him. Damian approached cautiously.

"Water... Please... I need… Water..."

Damian looked at the man who had just spoken to him. His face was reddened by sunburn, had greasy hair and his clothes looked three times too big. The young man then realized that in the rush of his escape, he did not take any food or water.

"I'm sorry," Damian said sadly. "I don't have any water to give you."

"Please... I'm... So thirsty... I need... Water... Purified," the man begged with difficulty.

"Purified? What do you mean?" asked Damian.

"Clean… Water... No radiation... It's... One of the few places in the Wastelands where... You can find some."

The beggar raised his arm and pointed to the metal walls. Damian turned to the man and asked.

"What is this place?"

The beggar raised his eyebrows, revealing bloodshot eyes. Damian had asked a simple question, yet the man looked at him as if he had just asked him the meaning of life.

"It's... Megaton. You... Grew up in a hole... All your life?"

_"Well, you're not far from the truth,"_ Damian thought, nodding his head and walking away.

The ground shook. The engine above the wings of the planes was turning on, spinning faster and faster. Damian stepped back as the door, built with two plane wings, slid upwards, revealing a second large metal door. The engine stopped turning when a humanoid-shaped robot with a large yellow visor serving as its head approached and positioned itself at the entrance. The robot rotated its bust towards Damian in a metallic squeak.

_"Welcome, to, Megaton. Have, a, pleasant, stay. »_

Damian noticed that a white five-pointed star had been painted on the robot's bust. Just underneath, a small metal plate seemed to have been welded. Damian could read the words _"Deputy Weld"_ on it.

"Uh... Thank you...," said Damian as he headed inside.

The town was built into a large crater. Sheet metal houses were built on large footbridges. A large, rudimentary staircase framed by two huge pipes led to the center of the crater.

"Oh, boy... More visitors."

Damian did not have time to observe the city that a large black man, approached him with a sigh. Straight out of a pre-war film about the conquest of the West, the man was wearing a long beige leather dust cover with a military pant and matching boots, as well as a large hat with curved edges. This vision amused Damian, until he saw the golden star pinned to the man's chest and, above all, the large assault rifle he carried on his shoulder.

The man sighed and stood in front of Damian, dominating him from his height. His small brown eyes probed the young man for a few seconds before a kind smile appeared on his face covered by an imposing beard.

"Name's Lucas Simms, town Sheriff. And Mayor too, when the need arises."

"I... Uh... I... I…"

"Hey, relax, kid. I don't bite."

Damian cleared his throat and calmly resumed.

"My name is Damian Franklin. I… I'm looking for my father."

"You're from this Vault, right? Vault 101."

Simms laughed slightly as he examined the young man's suit.

"Yeah... with that suit on his back, you can't go wrong."

"I... Look, Sheriff... Simms? I'm looking for my father, middle-aged guy, white, grayish hair. Have you seen him?"

Lucas Simms pursed his lips and seemed to think for a few seconds.

"Well, there was definitely this stranger who came by. He had a funny look on his face, kind of determined. He was also wearing a vault suit."

"Do you know where he went?" Damian asked hopefully. "When was it?"

"I don't know, sorry. I have enough to do in the city and I don't have time to keep the entry and exit register. However, I do remember that he stayed for a little while in the saloon. You'd better go and check with Moriarty, but watch yourself, that man's trouble."

"Where do I find the saloon?" Damian asked.

In answer, Simms stepped aside and pointed to a building on the other side of town on the edge of the crater. A large sign with the name of the place stood on the front wall of the building.

"Oh, one more thing."

Damian turned to Simms.

"Welcome to Megaton."

Simms walked away. Damian began to walk down the steps. A strange scene caught his attention. In the center of the crater, an elderly man was standing in a puddle of brown water up to his shins. The man was speaking with his hands raised, palms facing the sky. Damian could not understand a word the man said, as his speech was one of the weirdest things he had ever heard. Yet it wasn't this preacher who left Damian in shock.

A large oval-shaped object, half-buried in the water, seemed to be the recipient of the old man's words. As he approached, Damian heard the Geiger counter of his Pip-Boy panicking. He realized with horror that he was standing in front of a nuclear device. The inscription _"C-23 Megaton"_ was engraved on the side of the bomb, along with the radioactive clover.

Damian took a few steps back. The people of this town had a devious sense of humor. Naming their city after one of these machines was one thing, building a city around it and, above all, worshipping the same machine that had destroyed the world two centuries earlier was complete madness.

"Don't panic, kid. That thing's not gonna blow. At least not yet."

Damian turned around and saw Simms standing behind him.

"_"Not yet"_? Wait... You mean that thing's armed?"

"As long as no one tinkers with the wires and cables, the bomb will remain intact. And us with it."

"But that's crazy!"

Several people, seated at a counter behind them, turned around, obviously unhappy that someone raised their voice and disrupted their meal.

"Why do you live near that thing? If it ever goes off..."

"I'm not planning on getting vaporized just yet, kid, and as for why the city is built around an atomic bomb, you'll have to talk to someone else if you want an history class."

The Sheriff sat at the counter and began a discussion with a woman in a yellow jumpsuit who was standing on the other side. Damian took one last look at the bomb before he began his ascent to the other side of the crater.

The saloon was crowded. Loud chatters, clattering glasses and cutlery and the unpleasant crackle of a poorly tuned radio hit Damian hard. The smell of cold tobacco and strong alcohol also grabbed him by the throat. When he closed the door, he felt that all eyes had turned to him. The discomfort lasted a few seconds, until all the customers and people sitting at the various tables returned to their activities.

Damian was surely looking like a fairground beast, or at least a strange character, with his vault suit, his Pip-Boy, and above all, the dried blood on his face and hands.

The young man made his way to the counter. He slipped between a woman leaning against the counter, with short red hair and wearing a more than suggestive outfit, and a man with a shaved head, wearing leather jacket and pants with military boots and an assault rifle strapped on his back.

The woman blew the smoke from her cigarette and gave Damian a look full of innuendo. The young man looked across the counter. He realized that he had completely forgotten to ask Simms what Moriarty looked like.

He saw a man turning his back to him, his skull partially hairless. Damian tapped him gently on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Um... Excuse me, I'm looking for a man named Moriarty and..."

Damian uttered a cry of surprise and horror. He stepped back, spilling the glass of the man next to him at the same time. The man behind the counter had no nose and no lips. The skin on his face, as on the rest of his body, looked like it had been burned or torn off.

"What? You've never seen a ghoul before?" the man said in a hoarse voice, tinged with surprise.

"A... What?"

Damian couldn't take his eyes off the man's face. The man noticed the vault suit and the Pip-Boy and sighed sadly.

"I guess you don't have a lot of ghouls in your Vault."

"Uh... I... No... You surprised me, sorry."

"Hey!"

The ghoul turned his head to the man with the shaved head sitting next to Damian. His jaws were clenched, and he was giving Damian a mean look.

"You spilled my drink."

"I'm sorry Mr. Jericho, I..."

"Shut the fuck up, zombie!" shouted the man called Jericho, pointing an authoritative finger at the ghoul, still staring at Damian.

The ghoul looked down, petrified. Damian remained silent, not knowing what to do. He turned pale and felt a strange sensation forming in his belly when he saw the man pull out a knife with a serrated blade. He twirled the weapon in his hand and stuck the tip of the blade on the counter in a noise that attracted the attention of those around him.

"What's the matter, you lost your tongue vault-boy?"

"Jericho, put that away."

Damian turned his head and saw Sheriff Simms standing in the saloon doorway. He walked up to Jericho and laid his eyes on the knife.

"What are you gonna do with that?"

Jericho looked up at Simms and put the knife away.

"Come on, come on, what's going on?"

A man in his fifties, with gray hair and a well-cut goatee, dressed in a sleeveless leather jacket, a white T-shirt and thick pants made of several pieces of cloth, approached. Damian crossed his eyes, overflowing with mischief.

"Sheriff, you come to relax for a moment?" he asked with a forced smile.

"I'm here because I've heard there's trouble here."

Simms, Jericho, and the gray-haired man engaged in a discussion. The tone rose rather quickly, with everyone present obviously having a word to say. The blame quickly fell on the ghoul and everyone had forgotten Damian.

The young man crawled out of the crowd and got up. He found himself in a small corner of the saloon. A small purple lamp gave the place a relaxing atmosphere. Damian felt a presence with him. He turned around and saw a man in a striped suit, very clean, shoes polished, hat and glasses with tinted glasses. Damian thought this man was a stain on the dirty décor of the town.

Sitting in a leather armchair, he motioned for Damian to approach. The young man looked around him and approached.

"Finally, just when I was about to lose hope. My boy, I'm delighted to make your acquaintance. You may call me, Mr. Burke."

"Uh... Hello," Damian replied intrigued.

Burke leaned slightly to the side. He observed the inhabitants of Megaton, still in the middle of the argument. An expression of disgust and contempt appeared on his face.

"You, my dear, are not one of the inhabitants of this putrid pit, which makes you a person… Well, rather appreciable."

"I beg your pardon?"

Mr. Burke nodded scornfully at Simms and the others.

"Take a look at this. This place is a dump, a stain in the landscape. That's why it would be doing this world a favor if someone wiped this place off the face of the earth."

"What?"

"You see," Burke continued with a smile. "The bomb that this dump is named after is still active. All it needs is a little motivation."

He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small rectangular object with wires in it.

"And that motivation... Is you."

"Are you out of your mind?"

Damian didn't realize he just screamed. Simms, Jericho and the other all turned to him as one.

"What's going on now?" sighed the Sheriff.

Simms broke away from the group and approached Burke and Damian. Jericho spat on the ground and gave the Sheriff a murderous look before heading for the exit. The small crowd dispersed and returned to its activities.

"Are you looking for trouble, kid?" Simms asked angrily as he addressed Damian.

"It's nothing, Sheriff," Burke intervened, getting up and readjusting his suit. "This young man and I were simply exchanging formalities."

"'_Formalities'_? You just asked me to detonate the bomb that's out there with that thing!"

Damian pointed to Burke's hand where you could see the electrical wires of the device. Simms turned to Burke, a horrified expression on his face.

"Are you crazy?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sheriff," Burke replied calmly, unbuttoning his suit jacket and readjusting his tie.

Simms swung his assault rifle from his shoulder and fired the breech.

"You're under arrest, Burke," the Sheriff thundered. "Until I find out what the hell's going on here."

Burke sighed and raised his hands.

"All right, I'm coming, Sheriff."

Simms turned around and started to walk for the saloon door. Burke put his hand inside his jacket and Damian saw him pull out a gun with a silencer.

"Look out!"

Damian dove at Simms, just as Burke raised his gun, and pinned him to the ground. Burke fired. Simms growled as the bullet entered his shoulder. No one heard the shot, muffled by the silencer and the ambient noise. Several saloon clients turned to Simms and Damian, still on the bar floor. Burke fired a second shot but missed. The various customers dove for cover when they saw that Burke was armed. Burke fired a few random shots to prevent the customers from drawing and firing back.

Damian rolled onto his back and grabbed Simms' assault rifle by the strap and pulled the weapon at him. He aimed at Burke and pulled the trigger. The rumble of the assault rifle echoed throughout the saloon.

Burke was shot in the belly and chest and collapsed in his chair. Large splashes of blood had splattered on the wall and small dark red stars were beginning to appear on Burke's shirt and jacket where the bullets had hit him.

Damian exhaled loudly. For the second time that day, his body had reacted on its own. He dropped Simms' gun and left his head rest on the ground. The saloon was silent. Lucas Simms stood up gruntled and put his hand on his shoulder. One of the patrons crouched down and helped him up.

A young woman with blond hair tied up, helped Damian to get up. The gray-haired man with the goatee stepped towards the counter and grabbed the ghoul by the back of his neck. He pulled his face closer to the ghoul.

"Gob, if I hear one more time that you pissed off one of my clients, I swear I'm going to sew your filthy mouth shut so that everyone can finally drink in peace," he said between his teeth. "Do you understand me?"

The ghoul, his neck curled between his shoulders, nodded frantically, his eyes looking down on the floor.

"Well, that's a good zombie. Now go clean up this mess."

The ghoul slithered into the back room. The patrons finished their drinks and left the saloon, just after Simms had been transported outside. The man with the goatee turned to Damian and opened his arms as if to welcome him.

"Well, you then, you're a real angel fallen from heaven. Yes, our good Sheriff is lucky you were there."

He smiled smugly.

"Colin Moriarty, at your service. Sit down," he said, pointing to a stool in front of the counter. "Have a drink, I have a feeling that you and I are going to get along very well."

He turned his head towards the ghoul who had gone to fetch a bucket and a mop and headed towards Burke's corpse. Damian looked at the ghoul as he tried hard to pull the body out of the saloon without getting blood everywhere.

"Moriarty?"

"That's the one. Owner of Moriarty's. My little piece of paradise in this forgotten town."

He rubs his hands before putting them on the counter. Damian wasn't sure why, but the man made a bad impression on him.

"So, what can I do for you?"

"Well... I was told you could help me find my dad. Middle-aged man, White, gray hair. He must wear a suit like mine."

Moriarty's eyes widened. He stared at Damian for a few seconds, looked at him from head to toe and a smile appeared on his face.

"My God... It's you..."

Damian raised his eyebrows. He looked behind him, in case Moriarty had just spoken to someone else, but he didn't see anyone. Moriarty stared him straight in the eyes.

"The little baby-boy all grown up. You're a persistent little bastard, aren't you?"

"Wait... What are you talking about?"

Moriarty laughed.

"What? Didn't your father tell you? For almost 20 years, he's led you to believe that you were both born in the Vault?"

Damian was completely lost. All the questions he was asking to find his father only brought him more questions for an answer. Moriarty controlled his laughter and took a deep breath before he looked more serious.

"The lies we tell to those we love... It may have been a long time ago, but I won't soon forget your baby cries when you were in my saloon. You see, James took you to that Vault, to keep you safe.

Damian was sure that he was just messing with him. Everything Moriarty said didn't make sense. He knew his father's name, but there was no way he could have guessed it right the first time, and the whole story of being born outside the Shelter was nonsense. Why did James lied to him and how could they have got into a Vault that had been sealed for 200 years?

"You seem like a good person, you're just a little disturbed by all these revelations about dear daddy. So, I'm going to be honest with you. The Wastelands are a dangerous place and it would be unfortunate if someone took advantage of you."

He gave a wicked smile at Damian.

"Your father came here it's true, but he left, and I know where he went, only you see, in this world information is a commodity."

He tilted his head back, giving the impression he was thinking about something important.

"Let's say... 100 caps, and daddy's location is yours. Very reasonable."

"Caps?" Damian asked intrigued.

"Yes, caps. Bottlecaps. What, you... Oh, I forgot."

Moriarty walked over to a cash register on the counter. He opened it and pulled out a little soda bottlecap. The original red color had almost faded, and the aluminum was a little crooked around the edges. He put it on the counter and slowly slid it with his index finger to Damian.

"Looks like dear old dad forgot to explain the basics of Wastelands economy."

Damian looked at the small aluminum object in front of him. He looked up at Moriarty, who put the cap back in the cash register.

"I don't have any caps on me."

Moriarty smiled. A broad smile that made Damian uncomfortable.

"You saved our good Sheriff, but a gunfight early in the day is bad for business. So, to make it up to you and for old times' sake, I'll make you a deal. You see, before, in this noble establishment, there used to be a working girl. That girl's name is Silver, a junkie bitch. She borrowed quite a few caps from me, claimed she could supply me with drugs. The thing is, she took the caps and moved to the Springvale ruins to inject herself with everything she promised me. If you get the caps back, they're yours... Until you pay me with them."

He ended his sentence with a broad smile.

"So, I do your dirty work for you?"

"No!" Moriarty answered, frowning and looking outraged. "Who's talking about dirty work? It's just a favor, against another."

"Forget it," Damian whispered as he got up from his stool.

"It's up to you," sighed Moriarty. "I'm sure your father would be more reasonable than you."

Damian groaned inwardly and violently pushed open the saloon door. He leaned on the railing in front of the bar and bowed his head with a sigh. He raised his head and looked at the entrance to the city.

Damian walked resolutely towards the entrance, taking care to pass far enough away from the bomb as he crossed the center of the crater. When he reached the stairs, he heard a voice calling out to him.

"Hey, vault-boy!"

Damian turned his head and saw a man in rags sitting on a small stool next to a large two-headed cow.

"Sheriff Simms is looking for you, he's in the clinic."

The man pointed to a shack behind him. Damian decided it was in his best interest to get to Simms as quickly as possible. He climbed up the small ramp to the clinic and pushed the door.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Fallout 3 was the first Fallout game I played and I have a particular memory of my first time exiting Vault 101 and discovering the Wasteland and entering Megaton and I tried my best to express it with words. Untill next time and reviews are always welcome.**


	3. Chapter 3: 300 Pieces of Silver

**I know, this story is the Fallout 3 main story as I experienced it when I played the game a few weeks ago. I get that reading a story we already all know by heart seems strange (or stupid), but thanks to those who are still reading it. Enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

Megaton's clinic would have made the Vault dump look like a clean, sterile room. A strong smell of blood caught Damian's throat as he closed the door behind him.

The crackle of a radio could be heard. A lantern hung on a wall near the front door provided enough light to see. Right next to Damian, a desk with several files and piles of papers was gathering dust.

A cloth screen separated the entrance from the rest of the hut. Behind it, Damian could see what looked like an operating table with a small cart on which medical utensils were placed.

Footsteps were heard from a room opposite the entrance, which was hidden by a curtain with a hole in it. A medium-sized man, Black, short white hair and with a small moustache and a beard collar, pushed back the curtain and looked at Damian from head to toe. He was wearing a beige T-shirt with blood stains and a brown pant, and a small bag on his hip.

"Hi, I'm..."

"You don't look sick or dying, so you're breaking rule number one, "cut out the Black man.

Damian opened his mouth, but only an unintelligible stammer came out.

"You're wasting my time. Come back when you've got a bullet in your gut or when you're as radioactive as a nuclear reactor."

"Who is it, Church?"

Damian recognized Simms' voice, coming from behind the curtain.

"A kid in a vault suit."

"Let him in. I have to talk to him."

The man sighed and went back behind the curtain. Damian followed him and pulled the piece of cloth aside. The room was used as a bedroom. The walls were vaguely decorated with yellowed pre-war posters, either with medical information or the merits of pharmaceutical products. Several beds were arranged in the room. All were empty except for the closest one. Simms was sitting on the old mattress. He had removed his duster and sweater. A Band-Aid had been placed on his shoulder where Burke had wounded him. Right next to the bed, the man named Church, was working on a small cart containing all the medical tools needed for an operation and a small iron jar, where Damian could see some blood and a small crushed metal object.

Simms motioned for Damian to approach.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. I wanted to thank you. I must be getting old. If it wasn't for you, that son of a bitch Burke would have put a hole in me."

Damian didn't know what to say, so he just kept quiet. He thought about why Burke had approached him and started the shooting.

"Burke may be dead, but that doesn't solve the problem. If that bomb is active, you'll have a sword of Damocles hanging over your head."

Simms did not say anything. Damian suddenly felt stupid. He was stating the obvious and there was no doubt that every inhabitant in Megaton were aware of their situation.

Simms stood up and began to put on his sweater and coat with a grin on his face. Church advised him not to try too hard. He sighed as he tried to sling his rifle back over his shoulder.

"You should defuse it once and for all," Damian added.

"Great idea, as if we'd never thought of it before," said Church.

Church turned his back on them and cleaned his utensils with a rag of questionable cleanliness. He turned around and looked at Sheriff Simms who was staring at Damian.

"Wait, Lucas, you're not going to put our lives in this kid's hands, are you?"

"Unless you know someone who's capable of such a trick, Doc, I think this kid's our only chance."

"Wait a minute, I'm no expert on explosives!"

Damian watched Church and Simms, convinced they'd burst out laughing and tell him it was all a joke. Simms approached Damian and patted him on the shoulder amicably.

"Look, just look at it, will you? And if you manage to disarm this thing, I'll pay you. How's 100 caps sound?"

Damian was going to decline the offer when he realized Simms' offer was the same as Moriarty's. Maybe he wasn't going to have to do the bartender's dirty work after all.

"I'll try," the young man finally said.

"'_Try'_? Oh, God have mercy on our souls," said Church.

Church took his equipment to another room. Simms and Damian left the clinic. The two men made their way to the bomb. The preacher was still there, delivering his sermon to a small curious crowd.

"Tell me," Damian asked. "That man, who is he?"

He pointed to the preacher with a head motion. Simms motioned to him not to worry.

"It's Confessor Cromwell. He's part of a cult that calls itself _"The Children of Atom"_. They have a church right over there."

Damian noticed a metal shack overlooking the bomb and the small crowd. The radioactive clover had been painted over the door.

"They consider the bomb to be a deity or something."

"But... They're not going to be... Angry with me if I ever get close or touch their... _"God""_?

Simms burst out laughing before his wound made him stop.

"All you're risking, kid, is for Cromwell to kill you with the nonsense of his sermons."

Damian glanced nervously at the crowd. He had no doubt that if he approached the bomb, he would get shot by someone thinking he was trying to detonate the bomb.

"No one is going to shoot you, if that's what you are scared of," said Simms.

The Sheriff took a few steps back and observed Damian as he approached the bomb. Up close, the nuke looked even more impressive. Damian began to walk in the water surrounding the bomb. His Pip-Boy started sizzling. Damian raised his wrist and checked the Geiger counter. The pointer was moving slightly, nothing to worry about, although being ankle deep in cold, slightly irradiated water next to a device capable of vaporizing everything in its surrounding was not very pleasant for him.

Damian threw a discreet glance towards Confessor Cromwell, who seemed in trance in one of his sermons. The young man slowly raised his hands to a control box. Delicately, he removed the panel and pulled it slowly, revealing a maze of electric wires as well as a small electronic console with several digital dials and lights, all turned on. Each dial displayed the number _"9"_.

Damian silently observed the control box. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the inhabitants looking at him while whispering. He swallowed his saliva, convinced that one of them, thinking that he wanted to blow up the bomb, was going to shoot him in the back. Ironically, the bomb's wiring reminded Damian of his Pip-Boy.

He grabbed one of the wires and let it slip through his fingers. Connected to the dials, the wire seemed to him to be the one to cut. He brought his hand close to the connection but stopped at the last moment. He realized that if he was wrong, the place would be nothing more than a gigantic smoking and radioactive crater.

The young man stuck his tongue on his lips, recalling all the hours he had spent with Stanley repairing Pip-Boy and terminals in the Vault. Damian took a deep breath and pulled the wire to cut it. He heard a rattle inside the bomb and saw the dials and lights flashing. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. The clicking stopped.

Damian slowly opened one eye and then the other. The digital dials had gone out. The Megaton bomb had been deactivated for good. The young man let out a long sigh of relief.

He turned around and saw that all the inhabitants, except for the preacher who continued to speak, had taken refuge behind the walls of the huts or the furniture. This vision made Damian laugh, as if a simple sheet metal wall would protect them from the blast of a multi-megaton explosive device. Simms emerged from the crowd and approached with a preoccupied look on his face.

"So, that's it? You disarmed that thing?"

Damian nodded, the pressure slowly receding.

"Yes, it's safe now."

Simms put his hands on his hips and shook his head, letting out a nervous laugh.

"I can't believe you really did it!"

He patted Damian's arm. Damian heard some inhabitants applaud, but most of them went back at what they were doing before, without saying or expressing anything.

"Follow me," said Simms. "I think a sizeable reward is needed."

Simms began to climb the stairs to the entrance of the city. When he reached the top, he turned left to a large two-story cabin with the tail of a plane on the roof. Simms signaled Damian to wait for him at the door. He entered the hut and returned a few minutes later, holding a small leather bag and a small metal box in his hands.

He handed the bag to Damian.

"You will find 100 caps in there. However, 100 caps for avoiding us to be blown out into oblivion, I think it's not enough."

Damian looked at the little box he gave him. The young man lifted the lid. Inside, a small yellowed paper and a key. Damian looked at the Sheriff.

"We could use someone like you at Megaton, Simms said in a smile. "This paper is the deed to a cabin here in town."

As he spoke, he pointed to the cabin on the other side of the stairs.

"Look, Sheriff," Damian said. "I… It's very kind of you, but... I can't accept... I can't afford to stay here. I... I must find my dad and...

"You don't have to settle down forever... Let's just say if you ever need to settle down, someday... You know where to go."

Damian thanked Simms with a nod. The Sheriff walked away to the city door. He climbed a ladder that led him to the footbridge where the sniper Damian had saw on his way into town was still standing.

Damian made his way back across town. He pushed the door of the saloon. Moriarty was behind the counter at his bar, cleaning a small liquor glass.

"I got the caps, Moriarty!"

Damian dropped the little leather pouch on the counter. Moriarty grabbed the bag and opened it.

"100 caps, as agreed."

Moriarty sighed and gave Damian a sorry look.

"I'm sorry my dear friend, but that's 300 caps."

"300? What are you talking about? You said 100 caps!"

Moriarty flashed an arrogant smile and shook his head slowly.

"No, no, no, I made you an offer for 100 caps and you walked away, which in the world of transactions is equivalent to a _"no"_. So, I'll make you a second offer at 300 caps. So, what do you say?"

Damian was losing his patience. He tried to keep his cool.

"Stop screwing with me! All the money I have is right there in front of you! Now tell me where my dad went!"

Moriarty grabbed him by the collar of his vault suit and pulled Damian towards him.

"You'd better hold your tongue, boy, if you want to leave this place alive," he said between his teeth.

He released the young man and ran his hand through his hair, visibly trying to calm himself. Damian let himself fall on one of the stools.

"300 caps. Otherwise you can always take your chances by rummaging under every fucking rock in the Wasteland.

Damian left the saloon. Resigned, he headed for the ruins of Springvale.

Springvale's only remaining standing house was a small ranch with a small porch. As Damian approached, he noticed that the windows had been blocked from the inside by pieces of cloth.

He approached the front door and knocked. He felt like an idiot. He must have been the only person still able to knock on the door of an abandoned house in the Wasteland. Damian turned the knob and walked in. He closed the door behind him and turned around and came face to face with the barrel of a gun.

"Who the fuck are you? Where did you come from? Did Moriarty send you?"

"Whoa! Put the gun down!"

At the other end of the revolver, a woman, in her early 20s, with silver blonde hair, bags under her eyes, wearing a beige hooded sweater with white pants and high boots was giving her a menacing look.

"That bastard sent you, didn't he?"

"Calm down and point the gun somewhere else, please!"

"The bastard will get nothing! Those caps are mine!"

The woman approached, still waving the gun in Damian's face. A shot rang in Damian's ears and he could feel the bullet whistling right next to his face. The woman pulled the trigger again, but nothing happened except a metallic click. She dropped the gun and backed away. Damian raised his hands to her.

"Look, I don't want to hurt you! I just want to talk!"

The woman grabbed a knife from a table and dashed at Damian. The young man grabbed the woman's wrist and tried to push her away. They struggled for several seconds until Damian managed to free himself. He pushed the young woman, who stumbled over a toolbox. The young woman fell, her head hitting the corner of a piece of furniture.

Damian rushed towards her. He saw that the young woman was dead, lying on the floor, her eyes open she had a large gash on the side of her skull. Damian let himself fall to the floor. Sitting next to the woman, he put his hands over his face. He looked at his hands. His breathing quickened. He took several deep breaths. He stood up and went to a corner of the room and vomited. He looked around and grabbed what looked like a bottle of vodka. He opened it and cleaned his mouth with it, before spitting the alcohol on the floor. Damian dropped the bottle and leaned against the wall.

The room he was in was being used as a bedroom. A simple bed with a mattress and a counter on which a radio and an old television set were placed. The radio was turned on and played a tune like the one Damian had heard on the flying robot.

Shaking, he stepped over the young woman's dead body. He walked to the back of the house. An oven, a fridge, and all the necessities of a pre-war kitchen. The only source of light came from a window, partly hidden by a curtain with a hole in it.

Damian turned on the lamp of his Pip-Boy. The greenish glow of the lamp accentuated the decrepit atmosphere of the room. The young man sighed and began to search the house. He found a small metal box with the word "c_aps"_ written on it in black. He opened the box and found hundreds of bottlecaps inside, as well as several red syringes and inhalers. He closed the box and threw it into his bag, which he had been carrying since his escape from the Vault.

Damian had an unpleasant feeling. Stealing. When he was younger, he did steal a few candies from the Vault's cafeteria before, but now... He was robbing a corpse. He shivered and closed his bag, shaking his head.

Before he left, he tore down the kitchen curtain and covered the young woman's body.

Damian had just thrown a leather satchel on the counter in front of Moriarty. Without showing the slightest expression, he opened the bag and counted each bottlecap meticulously. From time to time, he looked up at Damian, who tapped his fingers against the counter, staring at the blank.

When he had finished counting, Moriarty put the satchel back in his jacket and smiled broadly at Damian.

"Did you take care of our lost lamb?"

"You have your money, so tell me where my father is."

Moriarty remained silent for a few seconds, staring at Damian with a slight squint in his eyes, as if he was trying to read his mind. He finally pointed to the radio set on the counter.

"You see that radio? Well, your father's gone to the Southeast. He went to this radio station, Galaxy News. Why, I don't know and I don't care, but I guess if you want to know what's going on in the Wastes, that's the place to go, since the DJ, Three Dog, seems to know everything that's going on in the fucking desert.

"And that's it?"

"Look, kid, I own a bar, I don't babysit. Why your dad left is none of my business. Now if you're not going to drink, I suggest you go find dear old dad."

"And where's that radio station?"

Moriarty stared at Damian for a few seconds before answering.

"50 caps."

Damian wanted to punch Moriarty in the face so hard. He remained silent and turned around and headed for the exit before he could do anything he would regret.

"In downtown D.C."

Damian turned around. Moriarty had his eyes fixed on the glass he was cleaning.

"The only way to get into downtown D.C. is through the old metro tunnels," he said, putting the glass on a shelf behind the counter.

Damian didn't answer and left the saloon. As he walked out, he felt as if an enormous weight come off his shoulders. He finally knew where to go, where he could find his father. He also realized that he was hungry. He had not eaten or drink anything since the day before he escaped from the Vault, when everything was normal, and he didn't have to worry about whether he would have to kill someone or escape from crazy security guards. From where he was, Damian had a great view of Megaton. He remembered the counter he had seen near the bomb and headed there.

Sitting on one of the free stools, he observed the place in detail. The counter was set up under the rudimentary porch of a shack. Just behind it, a refrigerator was connected to cables that crawled along the floor before disappearing into a hole in the wall. Hanging on the wall was a sign on which the owners had certainly engraved the name of the place, _"The Brass Lantern"._ Next to it, the door leading to the inside of the hut, dominated by yellow and orange neon, representing symbols that Damian had never seen.

"Hello. Welcome to the Brass Lantern. May I take your order?"

The woman in the yellow jumpsuit that Damian had noticed earlier approached him. Older than him, brown hair and lightly tanned, she stared at Damian with a slight smile, obviously waiting for an answer from him.

"Uh... I don't know..."

"Hey, you're the new guy, the one who came earlier this morning. I figured I'd never seen your face before. You're also the one who disarmed the bomb. Simms says thanks to you, that thing's not going to go off anymore, so thanks. Anyway, do you want to order something?"

The young lady dropped off a large piece of paper folded in several layers. Damian felt like he was standing in front of the cafeteria menu in the Vault. He looked around and his face decomposed as he read the various dishes.

_"Iguana Stew"_

_"Squirrel stew."_

_"Iguana on a stick and Mutfruit"_

_"Squirrel on a stick."_

_"Brahmin steak Mutfruit."_

He almost let a sigh of relief blow when he saw _"Noodle bowl"_ written at the bottom of the paper. He ordered the noodles, trying not to imagine what a squirrel on a stick might look like. He also took some water. A few minutes later, the young woman brought him his dish and placed it in front of him, along with a bottle of water.

Damian looked carefully at the water bottle. He discreetly approached his Pip-Boy and when he noticed that the pointer of his Geiger counter did not tick, he opened the bottle and emptied it.

"25 caps please."

Damian grabbed the little box in his bag and opened it. He was able to get 400 capsules from the young woman in Springvale. Minus the 300 he had given to Moriarty, and adding the ones Simms had given him, he had 200 left. He counted the money carefully and gave them to the young woman, who put them in a small purse attached to her waist.

While he was eating, Damian couldn't help but look around him. People passing by just glanced at him, partly because of his vault suit. The words _"Galaxy News Radio"_ kept running through his head.

He felt someone pat him on the back and saw a man sitting next to him.

"So kid, how's the Stahl's hospitality?"

Damian turned to Simms, who was just finishing settling in. He raised an interrogating eyebrow before the Sheriff motioned his head to the cabin attached to the counter.

"Brass Lantern's owners," Simms explained. Great folks. After what happened at Moriarty's, that might bring up the attendance here. Taking a stray bullet while eating isn't something that people like.

Damian smiled slightly. He hesitated for a few seconds before addressing the Sheriff.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"What's on your mind?"

"What can you tell me about the area around Megaton?"

Simms' face took a serious look.

"They don't call it the _"Capital Wasteland"_ for nothing. A fucking desert. Still, you can find settlements of varying sizes all over the place. To the southeast, you have Rivet City. I heard it's the biggest town around. But don't try to get to D.C., place's a warzone.

When he heard that, Damian felt like the ground had collapsed under his feet.

"Let me guess. Your dad went to downtown D.C.?"

Damian nodded. Simms sighed and gave him a sorry look.

"If plan on going outside of Megaton, you'll have to be better equipped than that."

He pointed to a large cabin above the crater, with the cockpit of an airplane on top of it.

Go to Moira's place, you should find something to increase your chances of survival in the Wasteland.

After his meal, Damian thanked the waitress and Simms and headed for the hut he had pointed out to him.

When he arrived in front of the shack, Damian could see an inscription in white paint on the wall next to the front door. The same inscription had been painted on the cockpit of the aircraft and on another wall.

_"The Craterside Supplies."_

Damian thought the name was quite original and pushed the door open. As soon as he closed the door behind him a large bang resounded through the store. He flattened himself on the floor and, without realizing it, put his hand on his pistol. He raised his head, looking around him.

The shack was two stories high. Damian's floor was occupied by two counters, one directly to the right of the entrance, where papers were piled up, and the second in the back of the room, between a workbench and a row of lockers and filing cabinets. On the left, an opening led to a staircase. Looking up again, Damian could see shelves full of all kinds of objects resting on a catwalk.

Black smoke was coming from a room upstairs. Damian heard someone coughing. He saw a man wearing leather pants and jacket with metal armored knee- and shoulder pads, coughing his way down the stairs. He leaned against the wall and let himself slide. Between two coughing fits, Damian heard him curse at someone.

Damian got up and walked towards the man who was still coughing. A female figure passed in front of him and walked towards the counter near the entrance. Wearing a light blue jumpsuit with the word _"RobCo"_ on the back, the young woman stopped in front of the counter. With dark red hair tied in a ponytail, the woman pulled a large pair of glasses from her eyes and took of the piece of clothing she was wearing as a mask. She was mumbling unintelligible words and started to write several lines on a piece of paper. Damian approached slowly.

"Uh... excuse me..."

"I was sure that adding a detergent mixture to the other chemicals in the..."

"Excuse me!"

Damian raised his voice a little to get the woman's attention. She raised her head. A little older than Damian, she looked at the young man as if he had just appeared in front of her.

"Oh hi, I'm Moira Brown! Welcome to Craterside Supplies! I run the store, although I'm currently busy doing researches and experimentations!

Damian didn't really know what to say at first, unsettled by this woman way too cheerful, who had apparently just exploded a chemical product in her house and didn't seem to care much about it. He was about to respond when his eyes landed on something, he never imagined he would see here.

Hanging on the wall behind the counter was a Vault 101 suit. This one was a little different from Damian's. Leather and metal plates had been sewn on and attached to the shoulders and knees.

"Where did you get the suit?" Damian asked, his eyes still on the suit.

Moira turned around and looked at the suit. She turned to Damian and smiled at him.

"This? Oh, it belonged to a woman who came to town maybe 10 or 12 years ago. Since she didn't seem to know much about the Wasteland, I offered to strengthen her suit. Unfortunately, I didn't see her afterwards. She must have died while exploring the Waste.

Damian had evidence that Vault 101 had been opened before he and his father fled. The Overseer lied to them about the true state of the world on the surface, but he also lied about sending residents to the surface. Unless the woman Moira mentioned had also escape the Vault.

"Tell me," Moira continued. "I'm writing a book about the Wasteland. "About how to survive out there, where to find food, how to treat a wound, how to deal with wild animals and I'd love to hear your opinion. You too are from a Vault and I'd like you to help me with my research, starting with a preface. If you could tell me about your life in the Vault, that would be great!"

If Damian had to give Moira credit for one thing, it was her honesty. The young man hesitated a little before accepting. He briefly described how Vault 101 was organized, his life with his dad until they both left. Moira listened to him religiously and even seemed very saddened to hear the reasons why Damian had left the Vault.

"A father on the run, huh? I've seen plenty, believe me, but none with a big _"101"_ on their back. Well, you know what? As a thank you for your help, I'm giving you the suit."

Before Damian could answer, Moira had unhooked the suit, folded it and held it out to the young man. The broad smile on the young woman's face prevented Damian from refusing.

"You have a booth right there if you want to try it! Now, if you'd like, I'd really like your help on the rest of my research.

"Wait... I'd really like to help you but... Finding my dad is my top priority and... I was just coming to see if you had anything to sell before I head to the Waste."

Moira had a pout and a sad puppy look on her face. Embarrassed, Damian looked at the suit. He didn't know anything about this world and helping Moira would be the perfect opportunity for him to learn more and maybe survive long enough to find his father.

"Well... I guess I can help you a little," he sighed.

When she heard it, Moira was overjoyed.

"Great! You'll see it will be fun, and I'll pay you as well!"

She quickly rummaged through the papers on the counter and grabbed a small notebook with a list scribbled on it.

"The first chapter is called _"Survival"_. To do this, I have three themes to address."

Damian was beginning to regret his kindness. He didn't know it yet, but this _"Wasteland Survival Guide"_ was going to make him sweat bullets.

* * *

**I always thought that peacefuly resolving the mini-quest with Silver was weird. Since she is addicted to Psycho and/or Jet, it would be more realistic for her to behave like that and attack the Lone Wanderer. Anyway. Hope you enjoyed, and let me know what you think about it. Until next time.**


	4. Chapter 4: Surviving the Wasteland

**Hello everyone, hope you're doing well. Please enjoy the next chapter of Damian's adventures.**

* * *

Moira had shown him the different items she was selling and explained the details of the first chapter of her book. As she talked, Damian had bought a few magazines for his 10mm pistol.

Among all the things Moira wanted him to perform, Damian would have to find food and medicine, head to a small ruined town in the Northeast and disarm and bring back an antipersonnel mine. Finally, he was to return to Moira after being exposed to high doses of radiation.

"Look, I want to help you, I swear," said Damian as he payed the magazines. "But my father... I really need to find him. He went to downtown D.C. and I don't know if he's there now or if he's already gone."

"This is perfect!"

Damian raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth. Of all the possible answers imaginable, this was the last one he expected to hear.

"To get to D.C., you'll have to..."

"…Go through the subway tunnels, I know, I've been told it's the only way."

"Well, the nearest station East of Megaton, on the opposite bank of the Potomac. Which is perfect, because on the way there you'll pass next to a Super-Duper Mart."

Moira rummaged through a pile of papers and pulled out a small, yellowed flyer with torn edges. She handed it to Damian, who examined it.

On the paper was a drawing of a woman and two children, each pushing a shopping cart full of food or drinks. Behind them, shelves filled to the brim with cans, soda bottles, cereal boxes and garden decorations. The words, _"Super-Duper Mart"_, were at the top of the flyer.

"I need you to go to this place and look for food and medical supplies. We all need these little things sometime, so I need to know if this kind of place still has them."

Damian hesitated, his eyes still on to the flyer.

"Come on, I'll let you keep whatever you find there and it's on your way, right?"

"Yes, thing is, I'll have to go back and forth to tell you if I find anything."

Moira shook her head.

"You don't have to, just tell me all about it when you come back to Megaton."

The young woman walked away singing. Damian stood there for a moment and didn't know what to do. He looked down at the counter and saw the armored vault suit Moira had given him. He took it with him and left the store.

He closed the door behind him. The tiredness and stress of the last few hours were getting to him. His gaze went on the shack next to the entrance to the city. He rummaged through his belongings and grabbed the key.

Damian approached the door of the house. He inserted the key and entered. The main room was empty of all furniture except for a small shelf against the stairs, an armchair in a corner, two lockers with twisted doors, and a computer console. A small room at the back of the house was used as a kitchen, judging by the cutlery and plates stored on a shelf. The first floor had no roof and was open to the ground floor and Damian could see a small dining area and a recess leading to a bedroom.

A hissing and whistling sound reached Damian's ears. He looked up at the stairs and saw a Mister Handy robot approaching him.

_"Good morning sir,"_ the robot said, tipping an invisble hat from the top of its spherical body. _"My name is Wadsworth, I am the butler of this house. Since you come in here and seem to have the key, would you show me the deed, please?"_

Damian quickly showed the paper Simms had given him. The Mister Handy gently grabbed it in its metallic arm and brought it close to one of his ocular appendages. He looked at it for a moment and gave the paper back to Damian.

_"Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr...?"_

"Franklin. Damian Franklin."

_"Allow me to welcome you home, Master Franklin."_

Damian raised his eyebrows. Never in his life had he ever been called that. He smiled slightly.

'_'Master Franklin'. That's not so bad.'_, he thought with a slight smile.

Wadsworth showed him around, explaining that the console Damian had seen at the entrance was used to set and change the Mister Handy's programming. He also told him that Moira had enough furniture for his new house if he wanted to make the place more comfortable. Wadsworth insisted on preparing food for him, but Damian politely declined and retired to the bedroom.

The room had only a bed with an old mattress and a flattened pillow, a desk with a chair, and a filing cabinet with missing drawers. Damian put the armored vault suit and his bag on the desk and opened it. He took out his BB gun. He weighed the gun, the memories of his tenth birthday running through his head. He saw himself near the reactor chamber, trying his gun on makeshift targets that his father and Jonas had set up for him. Damian now understood why James wanted to teach him how to handle a weapon. At the time, he thought it was great, being able to shoot at soda bottles or the few Radroaches who ventured into the basement. Today, after he had shot and killed a human being, with a real weapon, using a gun was not as much fun.

He put the rifle on the desk and emptied his bag. His Baseball stuff from the Vault, the picture of him and his father on his tenth birthday. He put the picture on the desk, pulled up the chair and sat down. He put his hands over his face and sighed.

"Why did you leave, Dad? What could have made you leave the Vault without telling me?"

Damian stared a the picture for a while and got up with a sigh. He lay down on the bed. He felt something in the pocket of his suit. He got up and after searching, found a holotape. As he took it, a small piece of paper fell out of his pocket. He picked it up and discovered that it was a picture of him and Amata. The picture had been taken on the young woman's last birthday. Damian smiled. He remembered the day as if it had happened yesterday. Both of them were in the Vault Cafeteria, sitting next to each other. Damian did not exactly recall what they were talking about, but they both were laughing. It was Jonas who had taken the picture, after sneaking up on them.

He frowned. Amata was the only person to have this picture. Remembering his escape from the Vault, he thought that the young woman had probably wanted to give it to him at the door and that she had discreetly slipped it into the pocket of his suit.

Suddenly, Damian felt very sad.

"I will find my father and I will come back Amata. I promise," he sais as he looked at the picture.

He put the picture down and grabbed the holotape. It was the one his father had given to Jonas and it was address for Damian. He placed the tape in his Pip-Boy and adjusted the volume. James' voice came out of the small speakers, addressing Jonas. A brief silence ensued. James was now addressing his son.

"_I don't really know how to tell you this. I hope you'll understand, but I know you might be angry. I thought about it for a long time, but in the end, I decided it was best for you not to know. So many things could have gone wrong, and there's really no telling how the Overseer will react when he finds out. It's best if he can blame everything on me. Obviously, you already know that I'm gone. It was something I needed to do. You're an adult now. You're ready to be on your own. Maybe some day, things will change and we can see each other again. I can't tell you why I left or where I'm going. I don't want you to follow me."_

He took a slight pause.

"_God knows life in the Vault isn't perfect, but at least you'll be safe. Just knowing that will be enough to keep me going."_

Damian heard Jonas' voice in the background and James answered him. He took a deep breath and spoke to the recorder again.

_"Goodbye Damian. I love you."_

The holotape stopped. Damian felt a tear run down his cheek. He lay on the bed, repeating his father's words. He was trying to find a double meaning, a clue, anything that could explain his father's departure. Fatigue was getting to him. Little by little he fell into a deep sleep.

He woke up with a start. Sweat was beading from his forehead. He had dreamed of his escape from the Vault, of Kendall and that woman in Springvale, coming back to haunt him, from Amata, tied to a chair and beaten by Officer Mack under the Overseer's satisfied gaze.

Damian ran his hand across his face and through his hair. He stretched for a long time and stood up. He looked at his Pip-Boy, which said 7:00 a.m. He had slept part of the evening and all night, but he still felt tired. He left the room and went downstairs. Wadsworth was dusting the shelf.

_"Good morning, Master Franklin. What can I do for you?"_

"Hello... Wadsworth. I, uh..."

Still disturbed by his dream, Damian massaged his temples for several seconds.

_"You don't seem to be in good shape, Master Franklin. I'll prepare you a small snack and a large glass of water immediately."_

"Thank you, Wadsworth... and for the love of God stop calling me _'Master'_, please."

Damian went back upstairs. The armored vault suit was still on the desk next to his bag. He put it on. The size was a little smaller than his, but not too tight, he readjusted it at the waist. It had a pistol holster on the right thigh and a belt to hold magazines, tools, or things too big to fit in the trouser pockets. The suit also came with military boots with straps on the side, and black fingerless gloves.

Damian was finishing adjusting the strap on his boots when he heard Wadsworth arrive. He was holding a bowl of cereal which he placed on the desk.

_"Please, Sir, your breakfast, and a bottle of water purified by me."_

The Mister Handy added action to words and took out a small bottle of water from his body.

Damian looked at the bottle as he rolled the sleeves of his suit.

"Water... You mean clean water? No radiation?"

_"That's right, Sir. I have a built-in water purifier, so I can regularly supply you with fresh, radiation-free water. However, it does take quite a long time to clean it, I'm affraid."_

Damian sat down at the office and ate his lunch. Strangely, what he had just eaten didn't taste horrible. It even tasted a lot like the food in the Vault. Damian emptied the water bottle in one go and stared at the wall in front of him. He thought about his father's note, asking him not to follow him.

_"Too late for that, Dad. Now that I'm out there, I might as well do everything I can to find you... And ask you for an explanation."_

Damian got up and grabbed his bag. His gaze fell on the picture of him and Amata. He grabbed it and looked at it for a few seconds before slipping it inside his suit. When he got to the bottom, he walked past Wadsworth.

"Tell me Wadsworth, do you have any more of these water bottles? I could use some food, too."

_"Certainly, Sir."_

As if by magic, the Mister Handy made six new water bottles appear from one of his compartments. Where he could store them was a question Damian would like to answer one day. The robot walked away to the kitchen and came back with several packages of food.

"Thank you, Wadsworth," Damian said as he put the food in his bag.

_"Of course, Sir."_

The young man left the house and headed for the city gate. The sky had cleared. Pale blue, it brought a slight note of cheerfulness to the desolated landscape. When Damian arrived outside, he was suddenly paralyzed. He could see the ruins of Springvale in front of him, and in the distance, the mountains and sections of collapsed highways looming on the horizon. The safety of Megaton's walls was becoming more and more pressing behind his back, calling out to him.

Now that he would have to venture deeper into the Wasteland and into downtown D.C., he realized that it was probably a one-way trip. He thought back at what happened in Springvale. He was certain, that if he headed outside of Megaton, he would have, sooner or later, to kill someone again.

Damian grabbed the picture of Amata he had in one of the pockets of his suit. He turned his head towards the cave where Vault 101 was located. There, safe behind a thick layer of rock, concrete and steel, was his home and the second most important person in the world to him.

For a moment he hesitated. Go back to the Vault, ask the Overseer to let him in. Forget about his father and this crazy world. He shook his head and drove the thought from his mind. His father would never have hesitated for a second to look for him halfway around the world if their roles had been reversed. James was the only family he had left, and even though at that very moment he hated him for abandoning him, he owed it to himself to find him.

Damian took a deep breath and headed for the road through Springvale. He passed by the beggar from the day before. Damian approached and handed him one of the bottles of water Wadsworth had given him. The man looked at him with stars in his eyes.

"You... Thank you! Thank you so much!"

The man grabbed the bottle and drank it all at once, savoring every sip. Damian went on his way. He didn't know why, but he felt a little better.

Moira hadn't lied to him. The Super-Duper Mart was indeed on his way to the metro exit. Damian had approached it cautiously. Along the way, he'd seen the ruins of D.C., much more impressive and terrifying as he approached. He had also crossed the path of a strange, hairless, pinkish animal with large incisors and clawed legs. The animal reminded Damian of those rodents that his pre-war ancestors had raised in cages, although this one was much bigger. The large rodent had left him alone, just observing him before moving away in a slow gait.

After going around the fence surrounding the supermarket, he arrived at the parking lot. A display of car wrecks, shopping carts, debris and human bones greeted him. Once again, Damian came across this strange flying robot, still spitting out his patriotic tune through his speakers.

The robot flew away, probably programmed to follow a specific route. Damian followed it with his eyes. Ahead of him lay the ruins of Washington D.C. and the Potomac River. On the other side, Damian could see the entrance metro exit. He hesitated for a moment before turning back towards the Super-Duper Mart.

The store's sign had seen better days. There was a set of two doors on each side of the store leading inside.

'_Food and medicine, huh? From the look of the place, there's probably not much left.'_, Damian thought.

He approached the left door and pushed it. The interior of the store was dark. Only a small canopy let daylight in and a few lamps in the back of the store provided a source of light. A feeling of unease gripped Damian. He was in a small entrance with a Nuka-Cola dispenser. He drew his gun and moved slowly.

A shot rang out and a projectile slammed at his feet. Damian saw several figures moving around the store and he heard voices. He jumped back and leaned against the wall. Damian tried to control the shaking on his hands and glanced inside the supermarket. He could see that the shelves in the center of the store were completely empty. On some of them, wooden planks had been laid out to form makeshift walkways and give a view of the whole store. He saw a figure standing on one of them and another projectile slammed near his head.

Whoever the people who lived here were, they were not very happy to see him. Damian heard footsteps. A man with a baseball bat rushed at him. He swung his bat horizontally. Damian stooped down and felt the air being lifted by the bat as it passed within inches of his skull.

The bat crashed against the wall. The man weighed down and took a second swing. Damian tripped over an empty soda bottle and fell to the ground. He had just enough time to kick the man away before he could swing his weapon at him.

The man took several steps back. Immediately, several shots rang out and he fell to the ground screaming, holding his belly and rolling on the ground in pain. Damian got up and took cover against the wall again.

"Oh shit! Shit!" Damian muttered, his whole body shaking.

In the store, he could hear voices calling out to him and laughing at him.

'_I'm going to die here! I don't want to die here! I need to get the fuck out of here!',_ said a little voice inside his head.

He heard the door open and looked up. He saw the shape of a rifle in a man's hands. In the space of a second, Damian remembered something his father had once told him. The difference between fear and terror. Fear keeps the senses alert and gives a boost to the person who feels it in the face of danger, making him react and sometimes making the difference between life and death. Terror paralyses the whole body and brain, prevents movement, and there is nothing more to do than to watch death coming.

Damian felt unable to move by himself. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably. The image of Kendall bleeding to death came back to him. He was going to end up just like him, all because he had been stupid enough to leave the safety of the Vault and follow his father into a world he knew nothing about.

'_Move!'_

Damian raised his gun and fired. The man screamed in pain and fell to the ground. His survival instincts had just been awakened. Damian walked through the small hall where he was standing towards the Nuka-Cola machine. He knocked it across the door. In the store, he could hear his attackers talking to each other and moving around. More shots were fired at him. This time Damian returned fire. He blind fired three rounds into the store. His enemies tried to force the door, but the Nuka-Cola machine was giving them a hard time. One of them managed to push the door open and tried to crawl into the opening.

Damian pointed his gun at his attacker and pulled the trigger. The bullet exploded the hand of whoever was trying to breach in. A scream of pain gave way to a flood of bullets. Lying on the ground, Damian protected his head with his arms. He fired again towards the door and heard the screams stop dead.

He heard something landing beside him. He looked down and saw a small circular object, black and yellow. Damian sprinted out of the hall and turned right along the wall before diving behind one of the cash registers in the store. An explosion shook the floor and a thin trickle of dust fell from the ceiling. Damian got up and ran to the other door. To hell with Moira and her damn book. All Damian cared about was getting out of this deathtrap alive.

His opponents had surrounded him. Damian stopped and turned left, heading into the maze of shelves and stalls in the center of the Super-Duper Mart. He heard a man's voice above him. He raised his head and saw the barrel of a rifle pointed at him.

Damian dove forward. He felt the bullet graze his head. The man ran behind him, using the plank bridges of fortune to try to cut him off.

Damian hit something and fell backwards. As he got up, he saw that he had just walked into a woman about the same age as him. She jumped on her feet and threw herself on him, a knife pointed forward. Damian heard the man chasing him coming over him. He plunged to the side barely avoiding the young woman and the rusty blade of the knife.

The young woman finished her run in a shelf. The shelf shook and wobbled. Damian grabbed the shelf and pulled it to the side. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the boards falling, as well as the man chasing him. The young woman let out a brief cry before being crushed under the shelf.

A bullet whistled near his ear and he flattened on the floor. He rolled to the side. All his muscles hurt. He could feel his legs burning. He turned around and saw the man climbing up the aisles and looking for him. Damian raised his gun and fired. The man was shot in the chest and stiffened like a stake before he toppled back and disappeared from Damian's sight.

The young man left the maze of shelves and saw a counter in front of him. He heard two voices behind him. He jumped over the counter and leaned against it. Panting, he could hear the two voices insulting him and coming closer. Damian looked around him hoping to find a way out. He saw a door. He got up to reach it, but several shots forced him to stay hidden.

"I got you, you son of a bitch!"

Damian raised his head. The barrel of a rifle was pointed at him. He grabbed the barrel and deflected it. The shot went off and the bullet lodged in the ground a few centimeters away from Damian. The man holding the rifle managed to free himself. He put a new round into his gun, but the breech of his rifle jammed. He cursed and began to push the breech as hard as he could, giving Damian time to aim and fire, blowing off the top of the man's head.

Footsteps echoed behind Damian and a silhouette appeared in his field of vision. Damian fired two successive shots. The silhouette stumbled and ran into a wall. Panicked, Damian fired a third shot. A hiccup of pain escaped from the figure. Silence fell again.

Damian holstered his gun. His whole body was shaking and there wasn't a muscle that wasn't in pain. He was staring at the blank. He let out a nervous laugh and suddenly leaned forward in a spasm and vomited. After a few seconds, he slowly straightened up, catching his breath and spitting the vomit into his mouth.

Still shaking, he reached into his bag and grabbed a bottle of water. He rinsed his mouth and poured the rest of the bottle over his face. It took him a few minutes to calm down completely. During this time, he looked around him, realizing that he had escaped the shooting unharmed.

On the counter, he found grenades, assault rifle magazines, a few 10mm clips but no food. He tossed everything in his bag and pulled out his pistol again. Empty. He reloaded it and held it firmly as he approached the last person he had shot.

It was a woman, in her thirties. She was wearing a strange outfit, a shoulder pad and bracelets with spikes and two pans to hide her breast. She was lying in a grotesque position, blood dripping from three holes in her body. Damian noticed the rifle she had with her. A bolt action rifle. Damian picked it up and inspected it. The gun was in bad condition, but he needed a little more firepower. He put his hand close to the body but stopped for a moment. He shook his head and quickly searched the woman for ammunition. He found a few magazines and put them in the pockets of his belt.

He had an irresistible urge to run away from here after seeing the dismembered bodies hanging from the ceiling or nailed to the walls. Searching through the other corpses, he found a key to a fridge in which he found everything Moira had asked him for, except for medication.

The door Damian had seen earlier intrigued him. It was locked and none of the occupants of the Super-Duper Mart seemed to have the key. Damian grabbed his new rifle and hit the handle and lock with the stock, which finally broke. Behind the door was an old storage room. Several shelves with metal crates or various objects, probably picked up from all over the Wasteland by the occupants of the Super-Duper Mart. As soon as he entered, Damian noticed the medicine cabinet on the wall. He rushed to it and opened it. It was filled with bandages, Stimpaks, those miraculous syringes capable of treating almost any wound, Med-X, painkillers, and above all small boxes of anti-radiation pills. Damian grabbed his bag and put all the medicine inside, between the food he had found and the ammunitions he had been unable to put at his belt.

Two other things caught his attention. The first was a stack of wooden crates filled with Nuka-Cola. Remembering that the currency used in the Wasteland was these small aluminum caps, Damian quickly put some of them in his bag, and opened the other bottles to retrieve the caps.

The second thing was the maintenance pod for a robot, like the one guarding the entrance to Megaton. Damian noticed a terminal that seemed to be connected to the maintenance pod. He turned on the terminal and was immediately asked for a password. He quickly searched around and found an old access card to the store. After unlocking the terminal, Damian was given the opportunity to activate the robot. He selected the option and heard the maintenance pod open. The robot exited and slowly walked towards Damian who was beginning to wonder if activating the robot was a good idea.

"_Maintenance, robot, Protectron, reporting. Please, present, one, valid, I.D., please."_

Damian quickly presented the card that unlocked the terminal. The machine stood still for a few seconds before moving towards the door, wishing Damian a good day.

"All right, I've had enough of this place already."

Damian left the storage room when he heard one of the supermarket entrance doors close. He crouched down and hid behind the counter. A figure climbed up the shelves in the center of the store and looked around. The figure called out several names. The occupants of the Super-Duper Mart had friends who had just returned home. As his body started to shake when thought about how to get out of there, he heard a hiccup of surprise followed by a crackling sound. He raised his head and saw that the Protectron had its arms outstretched towards the newcomers and was shooting at them with laser guns hidden in its arms.

Damian grabbed his rifle. He took several deep breaths, and as the shots and laser were fired, he stepped over the counter and sprinted to the door. The newcomers were too busy hiding from the lasers to worry about him. One of them, standing on the wooden boards on top of the aisles, turned to him and raised his gun. Damian was about to take cover when he saw a red laser ray hit the man in the chest. The man uttered a terrifying scream before his body lit up and disappeared in a dazzling flash. A shiver ran through Damian and he accelerated. He pulled the door open and when he reached the parking lot, he kept running, wanting to put as much distance between him and the Super-Duper Mart as possible.

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**Hope you liked this chapter. Last time I played Fallout 3 a few month ago, I forgot i had some realism mod to make weapon more deadly, as well as a mod that add Raiders in different places of the Wasteland and add 10-15 more in their existing spawn points/strongholds. Visiting the Super-Duper Mart was a painful experience, but I got good early game loot from that.**


	5. Chapter 5: The voice in the darkness

**I currently have a lot of free time right now. I'll try my best to publish 2-3 chapter per week, maybe more. Just need to translate and correct them first. Enjoy this one.**

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Damian didn't stop running until he got to the metro exit. He could feel his legs burning and his heart was pounding in his chest. As far as he could remember he never had to run so fast in his life, even during the Vault's baseball games, which were quite intense physical exercises.

The metro exit was built on a small square on the edge of the Potomac Eastern bank, lined with benches and a parking lot. Overlooking the square was a large carved stone pedestal on which a statue of a standing man was placed, his arms stretched forward and backward through a large metal circle. A representation of the grandeur of the pre-war world? Before it disappeared, engulfed in flames and before a desert worse than Hell came out of it.

A few meters away from the metro exit, he saw several armed silhouettes grouped together near a car wreck. Wearing outfits like the occupants of the Super-Duper Mart, Damian crouched down to the low wall that surrounded the staircase of the metro exit.

He glanced at the group of people. They didn't seem to have seen him and had moved towards the bank of the Potomac, pointing to something Damian couldn't see. He walked forward while remaining hidden and headed down the few steps that led underground.

A fenced gate was pulled across the metro exit, blocking it. Damian grabbed the gate and pulled it to the side. The metal creaked and scraped the floor. Damian stopped. He turned his head and listened. Nothing, not a sound except the slight whistling of the wind.

Turning around Damian noticed a graffiti on the wall. A strange symbol, a circle with what Damian presumed to be a pair of wings and what looked like a sword and gears. Next to it, an arrow indicated the entrance to the metro. A message had also been painted next to it, saying: _"To GNR outpost"_.

_"GNR."_ Galaxy News Radio? The only way to find out was for Damian to follow the sign. He tried to open the grid again, looking over his shoulder regularly. The fence refused to move any further, leaving only an opening wide enough for the young man to pass through. After one more look behind him, he slid his bag over and crawled into the opened gate.

The corridor of the station was pitch black. Damian turned on the flashlight of his Pip-Boy and swept in front of him. The faint pale glow of the Pip-Boy cast frightening shadows on the marble walls of the corridor. The young man noticed that the corridor turned to the left. He took a deep breath, prepared his weapon and stepped forward. Damian noticed a door on his right. As he approached it, he noticed that it was the old maintenance offices. Hoping to find a map or plan of the Washington D.C. metro system, he opened the door and inspected the room.

The office was empty, except for a terminal connected to a Protectron robot. Damian sighed and left the office. He would have liked to activate the robot, but this time the terminal was locked, impossible to turn on or bypass the security.

Damian turned at the corner of the corridor. Facing him was a row of turnstiles that he easily stepped over. The end of the corridor had collapsed, blocking access to the station. He saw a door on his right and entered a second maintenance room. He came across three of the giant rodents he had seen on the surface.

The three creatures stood on their hind legs. Damian realized how much bigger this mutant species had grown compared to their pre-war ancestors. As they reached chest level, the large rodents whistled and growled. Damian backed away slowly. With his eyes fixed on the incisors of the creatures, he tried not to imagine what would happen to one of his limbs if one of them got caught between the teeth of these rodents.

The three animals were huddled together. They did not move forward, but continued to growl at Damian, showing their incisors. Damian walked back into the corridor and saw a fire extinguisher. Slowly he grabbed it, keeping an eye on the giant rodents, which continued to grunt at him. Damian pointed the fire extinguisher at the animals and pulled the trigger. The fire-fighting liquid contained in the small tank spurted out and spun towards the rodents, which squeaked and dispersed.

Damian let out a sigh. He stood still for a few seconds, listening. There was no sound of footsteps from the metro exit or growling coming from the holes the rodents had disappeared in. He entered the maintenance room and closed the door behind him.

The room led him to a staircase that went even deeper underground. Damian arrived in what looked like a well containing several pipes and ducts. In the middle, a staircase went up to a footbridge. Damian climbed up the steps and when he reached the top, he looked around him. To his right, a door and to his left, a fenced gate leading to the rest of the maintenance tunnels. Damian approached the door. Behind it, he came to a desk. After quickly inspecting the room, he found nothing interesting except a key. After trying it in vain on the safe next to the desk, Damian left the room and headed for the gate.

The gate was locked. Damian was about to insert the key when he saw a figure in the shadows on the other side. He directed the light from his Pip-Boy towards the silhouette. Only wearing a piece of cloth around his waist, it was a human being. His skin seemed to have been burned. Damian remembered the ghoul he had seen in the Megaton saloon.

"Hey," called Damian. "Hey! Are you all right? Can you tell me if...?"

Damian fell backwards. The person had just thrown himself onto the grate, making it shake and squeak. It was a ghoul, at least that's what Damian thought when he saw the person's skin. With glassy eyes, partially toothless jaws, the ghoul was hitting the fence with angry rales. Damian got up and took a few steps back. Behind the ghoul, he saw three others approaching and throwing themselves in turn on the gate.

Damian aimed his rifle. The eyes and the general appearance of the ghouls made him extremely uncomfortable. What could have changed a human being like that? The young man fired. The ghoul squealed and collapsed to the ground. The other three didn't move and continued to growl at Damian. He put a new round in his gun and fired again.

The four ghouls were dead. Damian sighed. A shiver ran through his spine. Another aspect of the horrors of a world destroyed in atomic flames. He unlocked the door and stepped over the ghouls, noticing their rotting corpse smell. He kept going until he came across a door that led him into a metro tunnel. Even here, dozens of meters underground, the place had suffered from the destruction.

The only way to continue was to turn left. A small maintenance corridor to switch from one rail track to the other was immediately in front of Damian. On the wall, the same graffiti. The body of a ghoul was lying on the ground. Damian approached cautiously, certain that one of these creatures could tear him to pieces if he wasn't careful. The ghoul's arms had been ripped off. As Damian looked up, he could see more bodies lying along the path.

The track on the left had collapsed. After taking a fork left, Damian finally arrived at the station. A train was stopped on one of the platforms. Two broken-down escalators led to a concrete platform overlooking the tracks and pieces of the wide arch that covered the station had crashed inside the station.

Damian entered the station when a huge yellow hand grabbed him by the collar of his suit. He felt that he was lifted off the ground before being thrown forward. A massive and muscular yellowish silhouette with no hair came towards him. Wearing brown shorts, leather boots, a small metal breastplate and a shoulder pad cut out of a tire, Damian could see an expression of rage on what served as the creature's face. The thing reached for its back and grabbed a long wooden plank, with nails at the ends. Damian crawled backwards, narrowly avoiding its opponent's rudimentary weapon.

Shaking, he grabbed his rifle. The thing grabbed the barrel and pulled violently, snatching the rifle from Damian's hands. It tossed the gun aside. Damian turned around and stood up. He heard the plank of wood hit the ground right behind him.

Running as fast as his still aching legs would allow, he climbed up the escalators. When he reached the top, he turned left and took the corridor up to the surface. Behind him, he could hear the thing chasing him. At the end of the corridor, he saw that the gate that closed the subway entrance was open.

Damian left the station, closing his eyes because of the sunlight. He ran up the stairs. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the thing had just left the subway. Damian hit something metallic and fell backwards. He looked ahead and saw two human figures in a large grey armor with a helmet with a small black visor for the eyes, a headlamp and two flexible hoses in the cheeks that disappeared behind the head.

The two figures raised their weapons. Damian closed his eyes screaming and covering his face. He heard a creaking sound followed by a strange smell. Behind him, Damian could hear a cry of pain and something falling to the ground.

He lowered his arms and opened his eyes. He palpated his body and found that he had no wounds, except a slight pain on his chest and stomach, probably due to the dive the creature had made him do in the station. He looked behind him and got up, seeing that his pursuer was nothing more than a pile of blackened, smoking bones.

He turned around. The two figures were still there, staring at him through the visors of their steel helmets. The sight of these two armors reminded Damian of what he had seen in a history book on the Sino-American conflict that preceded the Great War.

Damian swallowed his saliva and opened his mouth to speak. One of his rescuers let his laser gun hang across his chest and removed his helmet. A woman, with blonde hair tied in a ponytail, in her thirties, was hidden under this imposing armor. She gave Damian a stern look.

"What the hell are you doing? You have no business being here!"

"I, uh," stammered Damian, still reeling from his chase with the mutant and finding himself facing someone who didn't want to kill him.

"Look, the Super Mutants have overrun our brothers in the Galaxy News Radio sector and we're heading there as backup."

As if to illustrate what the young woman was saying, Damian realized that gunfire and screams were coming from behind a group of collapsed buildings.

"Wait, did you say Galaxy News Radio?" Damian asked, coming to his senses.

"Sentinel," intervened the second person in armor. "If we don't hurry, we're going to have to put what's left of our men at GNR in small bags."

"Then let's go, Vargas," replied the young woman.

They walked away, leaving Damian alone in front of the subway entrance.

"Wait!"

He got up and trotted towards them. The woman turned around, an annoying expression on her face.

"You want to come with us? Fine. But stay out of our way and don't do anything stupid. And keep your head down."

She turned around and walked towards a destroyed building with only the foundation still intact. The man named Vargas simply stared at Damian through the visor of his helmet without saying a word and followed the young woman's lead.

Damian followed them in silence, looking around him. All was destruction and desolation. Collapsed buildings, craters in the streets, lines of cars destroyed with human remains inside. Streets were littered with debris and rubble, fallen from the facades of buildings, or simply rendered impassable by a collapsed building across or a collapsed section of highway or monorail.

The Sentinel and Vargas led Damian into a small alleyway. The gunshots were getting louder. About a dozen other people, all wearing armor like the one of the Sentinel and Vargas, were sitting or crouching against the wall. As Damian passed them, those without helmets looked at him with a surprised look.

The young woman stopped next to a man, crouching next to another, about as old as Damian. The man, his hair squared and a small goatee, sighed and put his hand on the lying man's body.

"Colvin, status report," said the woman.

The man got up and looked at her.

"The uglies barricaded themselves in a school across the street. They have a direct view of the square and the outpost. They know we're coming, and they've taken the upper floors."

He turned his head towards Damian, raising an eyebrow.

"A new friend?" asked Colvin, turning again to the young woman.

"Just a stray we picked up in 42nd Street at the metro exit," the woman replied. "He had uglies on his buttocks."

"Welcome to our little piece of paradise," Colvin said to Damian with a sincere smile.

The woman shook her head. She looked down at the man lying in the mattress. She raised her head to the man names Colvin who shook his head slightly with a sad look. The young woman sighed. She approached the end of the alley where two other soldiers were standing guard. After a brief glance in the street, she turned to the others.

"Vargas, Colvin on me. Reddin, you follow Vargas and keep your mouth shut. We're storming the place. The rest of you stay here, cover our advance and watch our backs. You," she added, turning to Damian.

She stared at him for a few seconds before she picked up an assault rifle beside the young man's dead body and, after checking the magazine, placed it in Damian's hands along with some magazines.

"Don't get yourself killed," she said.

Damian heard a concerto of weapons being loaded. After a few seconds, the young woman put her helmet back on and waved her hand to the people next to her.

"Let's rock!"

She left the alley, followed by Colvin, Vargas and Reddin. Damian took a deep breath and followed them. They came to a large avenue, blocked by a collapsed building and pieces of concrete. Across the street, a small square with a playground stood at the edge of a tall building with brick and concrete walls. The roof had collapsed, and all the windows were broken. Above what appeared to be the front door, letters fixed to the wall indicated that it had once been a school.

The group in armor moved cautiously, moving from one pile of debris to the next. Damian imitated them as best he could, his legs still tired from running away from the Super-Duper Mart and in the metro. He could hear gunshots and cries to his left, close by.

A deluge of bullets fell on them. Damian felt himself being pushed to the ground.

"Contact. Three hostiles, 12 o'clock."

Vargas' calm voice came out of the speakers of his helmet as he stood up to fire. Damian carefully lifted his head from the pile of debris behind which he and Vargas were hiding. A creature resembling the one that had attacked him on the subway ran from the school entrance to a car wreck. Another one left the school and joined him, shooting at Damian and the others. A third one was on one of the school floors and was also shooting.

"Damn mutants, I'm pinned down over here!" Reddin groaned.

With their automatic weapons, the Super Mutants forced Damian and the others to stay hidden. Screams and throaty grunts were coming out of the school, as well as laughter. Vargas and the Sentinel raised their weapons above their heads and blind fired. A bullet ricocheted just beside Damian's head and he collapsed even more behind his cover.

"Hey tourist! What's in your bag?"

Damian raised his head towards Vargas. He answered, but a burst of gunfire next to him stopped Vargas from hearing.

"What? I couldn't hear!"

"Food, ammunition and..."

Damian stopped. He grabbed his bag, opened it and searched inside. He pulled out two fragmentation grenades.

"I'll take that, thank you."

Vargas took one of Damian's hands.

"Covering fire!" he shouted.

The Sentinel and Reddin bursted out of their cover and fired a bullet and laser storm at their ennemies. Vargas pulled the pin, warned his companions and threw the explosive. The shooting across the street ceased with a loud bang. A guttural voice escaped from the school. Shooting resumed, accompanied by high-pitched, hoarse cries. The Sentinel stepped behind the car where the two mutants had hidden and where only lacerated bodies remained. The mutant in the school turned his weapon and fired at her, emptying his entire magazine in her direction.

"Vargas! First floor! Third window to the left!" the Sentinel yelled.

"I don't have a clear shot!"

Damian did something that surprised even him. He went around the pile of debris where he was and ran to the school. When he got to the front entrance, he pulled the pin out of the grenade and threw it through the window. Damian leaned against the wall of the entrance. A second later, a cloud of smoke came out of the window. He heard the shrapnel bouncing around him and into the school.

Vargas, Reddin and the Sentinel joined him. Without saying a word, the soldiers stormed into the school.

"Colvin, Vargas, upstairs. Reddin, you're with me."

The two soldiers made their way to a concrete stairway. Damian followed the Sentinel. On the ground, the trunk of a Super Mutant, with only one arm and part of its face missing, probably the victim of Damian's grenade.

He walked through the remains of a classroom. At the bend of a corridor, the Sentinel signaled to Reddin to take a different path. Damian followed the young woman when they came face to face with a Super Mutant. The mutant raised his gun to the Sentinel, who deflected the barrel and the shot, which got lost in the concrete ceiling. She punched the monster in the belly. The young woman swung around and went behind the Super Mutant's back, grabbing a combat knife from her chest at the same time. She rotated the weapon in her hand and stuck the blade into the back of her opponent's skull. She accompanied the Mutant in his fall.

Damian saw another Super Mutant arrive behind the Sentinel. He raised his weapon and fired. The Super Mutant stumbled against the wall, slipping on the floor, leaving a thick red mark on the wall in his wake. The Sentinel removed his knife and put it back in his holster. She stepped over the two corpses without saying a word.

Above him, Damian could hear Colvin and Vargas cleaning the floor. The school was empty. Damian stopped by a door and looked outside. He saw a small square with a fountain carved to look like a globe on a stone pedestal and a collapsed metro entrance. A large L-shaped building occupied one of the corners of the square. In the center of the square, five other Super Mutants crouched behind the metro entrance and the fountain, shooting at the entrance of the building where a small group of soldiers, wearing the same armor as the Sentinel, were hiding behind sandbag walls.

"Vargas, Colvin, sitrep."

Damian heard no response and assumed that the young woman had a radio built into her helmet.

"GNR Plaza, this is Sentinel Lyons. We're in position inside the school. Watch your fire. Vargas, Colvin, Reddin, light them up."

A storm of bullets and lasers rained on the mutants in the plaza. Damian saw them turn around, clearly not understanding who could shoot them in the back. Crouching behind the wall, Damian aimed his weapon and placed one of the monsters in his sights. Any reluctance to pull the trigger was gone. These things, whatever they might be, were not human, and as things stood, it was him or these abominations.

Caught in the crossfire, the Super Mutants were an easy target for Damian and the mysterious soldiers he had encountered. The echoes of the gunfire faded, and the dust settled. Sentinel Lyons and her men left the school. Damian slung his rifle over his shoulder. He was shaking. He took a deep breath. He had just survived his second big shootout and still could hardly believe it. He was still trying to understand what went through his mind when he decided to run headlong into the school entrance with a grenade.

He approached one of the mutants. In the heat of the moment, he had no time to look at their appearance. Just like the one in the metro station, their skin was a yellowish color with green tints. They were dressed in the same type of armor, made of car parts and metal plates. They were all bald and without lips. Most of them did not have helmets, the others wore a leather cap with earmuffs and goggles or a metal helmet that Damian was sure he had seen in one of the Vault's History books. He also noted the humanoid shape, the imposing size of these creatures and their highly developed musculature and the fact that these things were hideous.

He heard a gunshot that made him startle and saw one of the members of Lyons' group firing his assault rifle into the air.

"Reddin stop it! You're wasting ammo!"

"Come on, Vargas, we can celebrate our victory, can't we?"

"What do you think, that all the uglies from D.C. were here? Take the East side and secure the perimeter."

Reddin mumbled through her helmet speakers and walked away. Damian took a closer look at the building. Stairs and pillars led to a large double door, topped by a partially destroyed panel. In the center, a large concrete column had a golden sign, representing a radio antenna surmounted by a star and surrounded by lightning, like radio waves. The whole was surmounted by the letters _"GNR"_. On the roof of the building was a large, twisted radio antenna. Although parts of the facade had collapsed and allowed the interior of the building to be seen, the place looked like a fortress with sandbag walls at the entrance and on the balconies.

Damian heard footsteps behind him. He turned around and saw some of the Lyons group members who had stayed behind coming out of the school. The young Sentinel approached him and took off her helmet. She opened her mouth to speak when a rumble and a deep howl echoed through the ruins. Damian was startled and looked around. Soldiers looked around the square aiming their rifles.

"Behemoth! Reddin get out of there!" Vargas shouted.

Damian turned to one end of the square. He saw Reddin's silhouette beside the wreckage of a bus, looking towards him and the others. The rumbling sounded again. Damian saw a gigantic silhouette the same appearance as Super Mutants running down a street. Holding a fire hose attached to a large pipe, the monster roared and swung his makeshift weapon with such force that the bus was thrown several meters away, crushing Reddin.

All the soldiers opened fire on the giant, who seemed to be unaware of the flood of lead and lasers coming down on him. He turned around the building and grabbed one of the soldiers on the balcony and sent him to the other end of the square.

Damian dove to cover, narrowly avoiding the dislocated body of the soldier. The monster was swinging his weapon in all directions, hitting the buildings around him, the ground and a poor soldier who hadn't had time to take cover behind one of the pillars at the entrance.

"The Fat Man! Use the Fat Man!"

Damian raised his head. Lyons showed him an unusual weapon, next to the corpse of a man wearing one of those grey armors, laying down in the fountain.

"Take it and shoot that thing!"

Damian crawled to the weapon. It looked like some kind of catapult that was used like a rocket launcher. Placed on the launch rail, Damian saw a miniature version of Megaton's bomb.

Damian was going to object, convinced that the weapon was going to pulverize him along with everyone else in the square. He looked at the weapon and then at the giant who had just grabbed a wreck of a car and used it as a shield against the almost incessant fire that fell on him.

Damian swore and grabbed the catapult. He turned to the Super Mutant and saw that the monster had got rid of its shield and was heading towards him. Damian saw the fire nozzle rise into the sky. He threw himself between the monster's legs. He felt the ground shake and looked over his shoulder. A small crater had formed where the Super Mutant had struck and where Damian was standing seconds earlier. He ran to the L-shaped building and turned around.

He aimed and fired. He felt a big jolt in his shoulder and almost lost his balance. He heard a small whistle as the miniature warhead was ejected from the weapon. He closed his eyes just before impact. Through his closed eyelids he could see the flash of the explosion. Hot air whipped him in the face and the ground shook slightly. He opened his eyes and saw that the giant was still standing. A small nuclear mushroom was forming behind him.

The monster seemed wounded and staggered slightly. Out of the corner of his eye Damian saw Lyons running towards him. She placed a second mini nuke in the catapult and pulled the rail. A small _"ding"_ like a canteen bell, sounded.

"Again!" Lyons shouted as she pulled away to cover.

Damian aimed more precisely. He fired. The warhead ejected from the Fat Man and whistled to the Behemoth. Damian staggered under the force of the weapon and went over a sandbag wall. He heard the explosion and felt the ground shake again.

Damian growled and massaged the back of his head that had hit the ground. He opened his eyes and saw Lyons leaning over him with a smile on her face.

"Not bad for a civilian," she said, reaching out her hand to help him up.

Damian reached out his hand and felt himself lifted off the ground. The Behemoth was dead, the mini nuke had hit him in the chest. There was now a gaping hole where his chest was supposed to be. Damian grimaced at the unpleasant vision.

Lyons was standing by the fountain talking to Vargas who hat taken his helmet off. Vargas looked sad but also angry. Damian couldn't hear all their conversation, but he thought he heard the name of Reddin. The soldier got up and walked away to the entrance of the Galaxy News building, passing Damian.

Lyons approached.

"I... I wanted to thank you for helping me when you found me at the metro exit."

"It's a good thing we were there. I guess I owe you a thank you, too. You probably saved me a bullet in the back at that school, and you killed that abomination too."

Damian thought about how easily the young woman had moved and killed the Super Mutant, despite the bulky appearance of her armor.

"Strange though, the way you fought when two minutes before, you were ready to be shredded by that ugly chasing after you."

Damian masked his embarrassment by looking around and scratching his temple. His gaze fell on the various corpses lying in the square.

"This place is Hell on Earth," he said. "And what were those horrors?"

"Galaxy News Radio is one of the few reasonably safe places in the ruins of D.C. Well, that doesn't stop the place from getting attacked by the mutants from time to time. As for our all-yellow friends, they're Super Mutants. Abominations that came out of the blue. All we know is that there's a lot of them and they're crawling all over the ruins of D.C. and the Capital Wasteland."

"What about you? Who are you guys?"

"Name is Sarah Lyons. Sentinel and commander of Lyons' Pride. We're part of the Brotherhood of Steel."

"The... What?"

Sarah raised her eyebrows and looked at Damian in disbelief.

"Have you been living in a hole your whole life or what?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"The Super Mutants are killing everything that moves in and around D.C.," Sarah continued without hearing Damian's answer. "The Brotherhood is doing its best to stop them, but sometimes it takes a little something... More special. That's where the Pride comes in."

Damian nodded his head. His eyes fell on two Brotherhood soldiers carrying the body of one of their own.

"I'm... I'm sorry about your friends."

"They died well," Sarah said sadly. "That's all that matters."

Damian didn't know what to say. He just nodded his head. He looked up at the Galaxy News building. Sarah started walking towards the entrance and Damian caught up with her.

"You mentioned Galaxy News Radio, can you tell me more about it?" Damian asked.

"Well, the Brotherhood needed an outpost in the ruins and the guy who runs the station didn't want his head ripped off by the Super Mutants, so you could say it's a mutually beneficial relationship. The guy who run this place is Three Dog. He's... Interesting. Why do you want to know?"

"I'm looking for my dad."

Damian briefly explained his story to Sarah. By the time he finished, they had reached the door of the building.

"I'm sorry about your father. I hope you can find him. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go make my report."

Sarah pushed the door of the building. Damian took one last look at the square and followed her inside.

The entrance hall had suffered greatly from the Great War and 200 years of neglect. Two side stairs led to a balcony and the rest of the studio. Beneath and on the balcony, sandbags faced the door, as did three heavily armed Brotherhood soldiers.

"If you're looking for Three Dog, he's upstairs," said a man's voice from behind the sandbags.

Damian thanked the soldier and climbed the steps to his right. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Vargas, Colvin, Lyons and other soldiers talking to each other. As Damian walked down the corridors, he could hear music. A jazz tune that seemed to come from the floor above him. He climbed a few more steps and arrived in a large room with poor lighting. Damian looked around him. There were shelves against the walls, all overflowing with dishes, tools and junk. The place had been set up for living. There was a kitchenette, a separate bedroom, and a large space occupied by desks and a large electronic console full of lights and buttons. A little further on, sitting in front of another console and facing a microphone with a headset over his ears, a man wearing leather pant, a white T-shirt and a sleeveless leather jacket. He had his back turned to Damian. The young man cleared his throat and approached the man.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Three Dog."

The man didn't move. Damian stepped forward again. He raised his hand to tap the man's shoulder to get his attention when the music stopped.

"THRRREEEEE DOG!"

Damian was startled and jumped back, surprised by the man's cry and the wolf howl he uttered into the microphone.

"That's me, kids. Comin' to you taped from my fortified bunker in the middle of the D.C. hellhole where we've just been attacked by our friends the Frankensteins. But thanks to the beautiful Sarah Lyons and her brave Brotherhood of Steel companions, yours truly is still on the air. Ain't life grand? Anyway, that was Ella Fitzgerald with _"Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall"_. Before we resume our regular program, time for a GNR Public Service Announcement. Don't feed the Yao-Gui. That is all. In a moment, the Ink Spots and their timeless classic, _"I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire"_, but first, here's Danny Kaye and the Andrew Sisters talking about _"Civilization"_!"

The man pressed a button on his console and music started to play. He took off his headset and stood up stretching. He turned around and looked at Damian who had his mouth slightly ajar and a raised eyebrow.

The man, Black, had goatee and moustache and glasses with partially tinted lenses and a grey bandanna covering his head. He stared at Damian for a few seconds before speaking.

"You, you look like someone who asks himself a million questions."

Damian nodded his head slowly.

"I'm... I'm looking for Three Dogs."

"Well, I'm Three Dog, teller of truth, disc jockey, host, lord and master of the best radio in the Wasteland, Galaxy News Radio. I am the voice that guides the poor lost souls of the Capital Wasteland through the darkness and radiation.

Damian frowned. He now understood what Sarah meant by _"interesting"_ when she spoke of Three Dogs.

"I know who you are. You left this Vault and plunged into the unknown. Just like your dad."

"Have you seen him?" Damian asked. "Do you know where he is? Is he here? Is my father here?"

Damian approached Three Dog, looking him straight in the eyes. Three Dog retreated slightly and raised a hand to calm the young man. He could see the distress in Damian's eyes.

"Calm down, one thing at a time. Your old man ain't here. Not anymore. Your dad heard old Three Dog on the radio and figured I knew what was going on around here. Smart man, your dad, he was right.

"So, you know where he went?" Damian cried out.

"I know, but I need you to do something for me first."

Damian's face became baffled.

"Hey, you don't have to make that face, I'm not going to ask you for the moon. Well, not exactly."

Damian raised his eyebrows.

"Galaxy News is my baby, I keep it changed, I feed it, I love it. Problem is no one outside D.C. can hear her cry. And if nobody hears a radio, then what's the radio for, huh? Well, you probably saw those ugly, yellow, muscle guys outside, right? Well, one of those brainless Super Mutant thought it was really fun to shoot the shiny thing on top of the Washington Monument. The problem is that that shiny thing was the Galaxy News' broadcast relay, and since the factory that made the dish went out of business 200 years ago, it's going to be impossible to order a replacement model from customer service. Luckily, there is a way to find a new one.

He motioned Damian to follow him. He stopped in front of a poster on the wall. It was a poster for a museum in Washington D.C. The poster announced a Vault-Tec exhibit. It also depicted a white machine, with several spheres and antennas in front of a starry sky.

"The Virgo II Lunar Lander. This space-age dinosaur is on display at the Museum of Technology on that huge space in D.C. they call the Mall. One of its dishes will have to be taken to replace the one of the Washington Monument."

Three Dog went back to his console and pressed several buttons. The music that was playing ended and another began.

"Here's the deal, 101. You get me back on the air, and as soon as I get the signal, I'll tell you where dear old dad went. An announcement from Three Dog himself, just for you on GNR."

Damian remained silent, thoughtful. He was looking for a way to convince Three Dog but unless he fixed his broadcast relay, he would remain silent on James' location.

"So kid, whadaya say?"

Damian sighed. He ran his hand through his hair and turned to Three Dog.

"Alright, you've got yourself a deal."

A smile lit up the DJ's face.

"James can be proud to have a son like you. Here kid, have a cigar."

"Uh... I don't smoke, thank you."

Three Dog laughed for a few second and shrugged.

"Nah, forget it."

They shook hands to seal the deal.

"So, this museum, where do I find it and how do I get there?"

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed. Three Dog is one of my favorite character in FO3. I find his radio introduction pretty great. The other radio animator in Fallout were... Meh. The New Vegas one was nice, but I prefer Three Dog's voice actor and Fallout 4 radios were only enjoyable after I put some mods on.**

**For those who did not get the "Have a cigar" line, it's from the song "Have a Cigar" by Pink Floyd.**

**Until next time.**


	6. Chapter 6: Necropolis

**Hope you all doing well and enjoying the story so far. I'm happy to see that some people are reading it. A****s always, e****njoy and reviews are welcome.**

* * *

"The metro. Of course, it has to be the damn metro."

Damian was in the back of the Galaxy News Radio part of the building had collapsed and down below, he had a great view on Dupont Circle, one of the many pre-war D.C. districts. From where he was, Damian could only see a small square with a metro exit, accessible by a fenced footbridge crossing a wide avenue, all surrounded by large destroyed buildings. His last experience on the D.C. metro was still making him uneasy, and when Three Dog told him that the only way to get from point A to point B in downtown D.C. was through the metro tunnels, which were supposed to contain the same horrors Damian had encountered on his way here, the young man felt butterflies in his stomach.

From what Three Dog had told him, Damian would have to take a collapsed car tunnel underneath Dupont Circle and head to Dupont Circle station to reach the Mall, where he would find the Museum of Technology and the Washington Monument.

"One contemplates the destructive beauty of Man?"

Damian was pulled from his thoughts by a voice next to him. Sitting on a metal crate, holding his sniper scope in front of his eyes, the barrel leaned on a table next to his helmet, Damian recognized Colvin, the soldier he had seen with Sarah Lyons earlier.

"Impressive, isn't it?" said the sniper. "All that destruction. Hard to believe that all this devastation happened in just a couple of hours."

Damian didn't answer. Now that he had time to take a closer look at his surroundings, the only thing he could think of were old photos in the Vault books, showing a city in a country with which the United States was at war a long time ago and which had been completely devastated. The only difference was that they were not nuclear weapons involved.

He thought back to the Fat Man he had used in front of the building. What madness had taken hold of Man to create a football size nuclear warhead-launching catapult?

"Have you come to admire the landscape or are you going to explore the ruins?" Colvin asked, briefly taking his eyes off his scope to llok at Damian.

"I have to get to the Mall. Three Dog wants me to repair his broadcast relay on the Washington Monument."

Colvin raised his hand to tell him to be quiet. Damian frowned and looked towards the ruins. A second later, Covlin fired his sniper rifle. He took his eye away from the scope, a satisfied look on his face.

"Excuse me, you were saying?" the soldier asked.

"What did you shoot at? Damian asked as he scanned the ruins.

"The group of feral ghouls down the street. Do you know how to get to the Mall?"

"Yes," replied Damian, busier looking for the ghouls in the street. "The collapsed car tunnel to the metro, then on to the Smithsonian station.

"Three Dog has given you the right information. That's the route our patrols used to take to get from Chevy Chase to the Mall. The Brotherhood has an outpost there, just follow the arrows."

"_"Used to""_? Damian repeated. "What do you mean?"

"Yes, we used to take this route before, but as no one cares about maintaining the buildings in D.C. anymore, so as a part of GNR building eventually collapsed we had to find another way back and we decided to abandon that route. Three Dog must have warned you that it was a one-way road, right?

Damian thanked the sniper and began to descend, clinging to the edge of the building and dropping to the floor below before going down a slight slope and into the street. Damian followed the street, skirting the debris of buildings, car wrecks, and stepping over the dead bodies of the feral ghouls that Colvin had used for shooting practice. In front of him, he could see a large obelisk, slightly damaged. He found it strange that this structure was still standing when everything around it had partially collapsed or been blown away by nukes.

The entrance to the car tunnel had collapsed. Damian looked for a way to climb out of the street, but the slippery rubble and the large steel bars sticking out of the debris like spears made him give up on the idea. Looking around, he saw a half-open metal door. He approached and noticed the same graffiti that had led him to Galaxy News Radio, this time subtitled _"To the Mall Outpost"_.

Damian prepared his assault rifle and gently pushed the door open. It led to a maintenance tunnel whose walls were covered with large pipes. He followed the tunnel and after passing through a squeaky metal sliding door, he arrived in the tunnel.

The place was entirely dark, only the few small lanterns in the tunnel, hanging on the walls, provided a weak source of light.

Damian's nostrils filled with a stench of stale, musty air and he was filled in disgust. He looked around him. To his right was the collapsed tunnel entrance. To his left, his view was blocked by the wreckage of a bus across the road. On the other wall of the tunnel, he saw an open door leading to another maintenance tunnel. He stepped forward cautiously and looked up. Wide cracks ran along the ceiling and Damian prayed inside that he wouldn't be here when the tunnel collapsed for good.

Damian heard a noise further down the tunnel. He crouched behind the wreckage of a car and listened. Little growls and grunts came from the end of the tunnel. He thought he saw figures moving slowly, as if they were wandering. Not wanting to linger to find out if it was his mind that was playing tricks to him or not, he went on his way.

The graffiti with the pair of wings and the sword was on the wall again. A small plaque on the wall told him that this tunnel would lead him to the metro system. He walked down the maintenance corridor and came across another graffiti indicating that he was following the right way. He pushed the door next to him and went in. The marble walls and the small white mosaic fresco along the wall indicated him that he was in the station.

Further on, he came across a large room with desks and a Protectron. The paint on the walls and the ceiling lining was falling apart. At the other end of the room, a door led to the exit. He approached it when he heard footsteps from the other side coming towards him. He froze. With his hand on the handle, he held his breath. Heavy footsteps echoed just behind the door. Damian opened the door slightly.

There were two Super Mutants in the hallway. Damian stood still. The two monsters were pacing back and forth. One of them started talking, in a hoarse, unpleasant voice. The second answered in the same tone of voice. An incomprehensible conversation for the young man. One of the mutants sniffed the air and turned his head towards Damian. The young man felt his heart stop. The two mutants moved towards him. He let go of the doorknob and backed away, pointing his rifle at the door. He saw a large yellowish hand grasp the door and open it. Damian fired. The Mutant collapsed into a guttural groan. The second one screamed, entered the maintenance office and swung his head left and right, looking for where the shots were coming from. He spotted Damian and approached him, holding a large piece of studded wood in his hands.

Damian didn't have time to aim and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened except a metallic rattle. He raised his head and saw the monster raise its makeshift weapon above its head. Damian stepped aside and out of the corner of his eye saw the piece of wood pass right next to him. The Super Mutant had hit the Protectron control console. Its weapon was stuck in the console. The monster pulled it, but the wooden plank didn't move. The mutant forgot about Damian and went after his club, shaking it back and forth to free it. Damian grabbed a new clip. Trembling with adrenaline, he managed to engage the new magazine at the same time the mutant pulled his weapon from the console. Damian pointed the barrel of his rifle at the monster and fired. The staccato of the assault rifle echoed through the room. The Super Mutant screamed and collapsed against the wall, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

Damian ran out of the room. He felt something clinging around his ankle and fell to the floor. As he turned around, he saw the foot of the first Super Mutant fall on him. Damian blocked it with his rifle and his arms. The strength of the mutant was much stronger than he had anticipated. The Super Mutant pressed harder and harder on the young man's torso. Damian released his right hand and grabbed his pistol. He fired at the Super Mutant. The bullet went into the monster's chin and out the back of his head, tearing off the top of his skull.

The Super Mutant flipped backwards. Damian crawled out from under the mutant's leg. He got up and took a deep breath. He ran his hand across his face and wiped the sweat from his forehead. His chest was a little sore. He looked around. Behind him, the corridor leading to the surface. Access to the station was made impossible by a collapse. He went through the service door in front of him and went deeper underground.

He arrived on one of the metro tracks. Light came from the left. Damian jumped onto the small walkway next to the tracks when a gunshot blast sounded in front of him. Pieces of concrete fluttered by his head. Damian slid backwards and fell against the steps of the stairs. He heard footsteps approaching. A figure appeared before him. Damian pulled the trigger on his rifle and heard a squeaking sound. He stood up, pointing his gun at the trembling figure lying on the ground.

It was a man wearing fatigue and a tank top. What was left of his face was hidden under a hockey mask. Damian saw pieces of bloody flesh and bone around him, pieces that looked very much like a human jaw. Gurgles came out of the man and then silence. Damian approached slowly, his gun still aimed at the man.

The man had the same rifle as him. Damian picked it up and threw it further away. He pricked the man's chest with the barrel of his gun. The man was dead. Damian lowered his rifle and crouched down. He hesitated for a few seconds and searched the corpse.

He retrieved the magazine from the man's gun and walked away. The tunnel was collapsed on both sides. The man had made this part of the tunnel a living place, installing a sandbag wall in front of the door through which Damian had gone out, and a small wooden palisade separating the tunnel from the place he lived.

Damian walked to a service door a little further down the tunnel. Next to the door were old pre-war signs. Damian was on the Red Line, although this was certainly not important today, and was heading South to a place called Metro Central.

Damian followed the corridor that led him to a large room overlooking a cave. The room consisted only of a terminal and an office. Damian glanced out the door. He heard a rattle and shots rang out from the cave. He felt a burn on his arm. He stepped back and leaned against the wall. Sparks flew from the walls around him as the bullets ricocheted off the wall. The storm of bullets ended as quickly as it had begun. Damian glanced out the big window. The cave was guarded by two automatic turrets. Damian tilted his head and looked at his arm. A bullet had hit his shoulder and torn the skin. The wound was shallow but painful. He reached into his bag and pulled out one of the Stimpacks he'd picked up from the Super-Duper Mart. He injected himself with the syringe, clenching his teeth. The pain subsided quickly. He went through his bag again and pulled out a bandage which he quickly applied around the wound.

Damian got up and with his foot, closed the door to the cave. He approached the terminal. The computer was locked. Damian entered a special command that Stanley had taught him. Lines of symbols and words appeared on the screen. Damian selected one of them and pressed enter. Nothing happened, except another barrage of bullets on the door and wall. He didn't know how much ammunition these machines had in reserve and he did not want to find it out the hard way. The bullets went through the door and ricocheted into the room. Damian entered a new command, but nothing happened.

"Come on…!"

An error message was displayed.

"For fuck sake! Work you piece of shit!" Damian shouted, banging his fist on top of the computer.

The bullets continued to fly but not in the room. Damian ventured to look through what was left of the door. The two turrets had started firing in all directions. He raised his eyebrows and turned his head towards the terminal.

"Well, I guess it works too," he whispered with a smile.

After a few seconds one of the turrets had been destroyed by the other. The remaining turret ran out of ammunition and continued to turn on itself. Damian stepped over what was left of the door and down the metal stairwell that occupied the cave before heading for the exit.

Damian arrived in front of a large metal door. He operated the sliding door, revealing a sewage system. Damian walked forward, trying to ignore the atrocious smell inside.

He left the sewer through another sliding door and entered another maze of maintenance tunnel. He walked forward and felt something soft and slimy under his feet. He ventured to light his Pip-Boy's lamp. He looked down and saw that he had just stepped over the remains of a corpse. He winced and coughed and couldn't hold back from vomiting. The smell coming from the decaying corpse was unbearable.

As he looked around him, he saw that there were other dead bodies in the room. Ghouls, humans and Super Mutants. It was one hell of a mess. Damian spit what was left in his mouth and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He kept walking down the hallway and found himself on train tracks again.

He followed the arrows indicating the direction of Metro Central and walked past stopped metro cars. Damian slipped between the wall and the cars. The lamp of his Pip-Boy lit up the inside of the train and he glanced at it and a shiver ran through him from head to toe.

The car was still busy. Rows of decayed and mummified corpses, sitting on the benches or lying on the floor of the car. Men and women, brown and grey-skinned, with only thin, colorless hairnets, their empty sockets staring at the floor or the windows of the metro car.

Damian couldn't look away. He couldn't get out of his mind how those poor people had to die and end up dried out on a metro car, having succumbed to a deadly dose of radiation.

Damian plucked his eyes from the grim sight. He finally arrived in a station much larger than the one where he had met Sarah Lyons. As he climbed up the debris, he could see that a large platform led to other tracks, perpendicular to those on which he was standing. Above one of the tunnels that ran southward, Damian saw graffiti showing him the way.

Damian continued walking in the metro tunnels, alternating between the maintenance corridor and the train tracks. He arrived at a third metro station. Dismembered bodies hung from the ceiling of the station or from the platform above the tracks, a macabre decoration reminiscent of the Super-Duper Mart. Damian wiggled his fingers around the handle of his assault rifle. He climbed onto the platform, moving silently. He had turned off the light on his Pip-Boy. The only source of light was a thin stream of daylight coming from a hole in the station vault. Damian approached an information booth with a city map on it. He had finally arrived at the Smithsonian station, the station of the Mall Museums. The place looked deserted.

Two exits were open to him. He took the first, the one closest to him. The corridor leading up to the surface opened out in front of the Natural History Museum.

The Mall was a large place surrounded with tall buildings with marble columns and facades decorated with bronze male figures. In the center was the Washington Monument, dominating the place and all the ruins of D.C. The obelisk was surrounded by a large palisade of concrete blocks and sandbags. Further to his left, Damian recognized the other large building with the dome he had seen as he left the Vault, the Capitol building. Part of the dome was destroyed, and the white stone of the building was blackened. On the other side, the Lincoln Memorial, partly destroyed.

The place looked like a battlefield. Damian noticed craters all over the ground and walls of sandbags scattered here and there. He turned and looked up. He was at the entrance of the Natural History Museum. The building almost encircled the metro exit.

Damian turned his attention to the Mall. He looked for the Museum of Technology, but saw no signs, panels or posters that could give him any information. He was on his way to the Washington Monument and to inquire with members of the Brotherhood when he heard a whistle behind him.

Damian turned around and saw a ghoulified woman, with a remnant of red hair, wearing a gray jacket and blue jeans, leaning against the low wall surrounding the metro exit. Damian was startled and the ghoul smiled at him, making what was left of her skin stretched even more.

"Hello there, tourist!"

Damian noticed the laser rifle she was carrying across her chest. He tightened his grip on his gun but didn't move.

"Uh... Hello..."

"Do you have a death wish?"

"Do I have…? What?"

The ghoul motioned her head towards the Mall.

"Going sightseeing in a warzone isn't very smart."

"I, uh... I'm not a tourist," smiled Damian shyly, not sure how to pinpoint the situation.

The ghoul burst out a hoarse laugh.

"Come on, you're on the Mall of our beautiful capital. You're here for the monuments and museums, am I right?"

Damian didn't know if the ghoul was serious, crazy, or just making fun of him. The young man was about to answer when he saw the ghoul looking behind him and her smile disappearing. Damian turned around and saw several heavily armed figures in grey armor moving near the obelisk.

"Looks like the Super Mutants and the Brotherhood assholes are going to be kicking each other's asses again."

Damian saw several Super Mutants appear from the area that still extended from the Washington Monument and the Eastern end of the Mall.

"Better not stick around when they're about to shoot each other."

The ghoul straightened up and headed towards the museum. Damian hesitated for a moment. The battle between the Super Mutants and the Brotherhood at Galaxy News Plaza had been a bloodbath. He thought back to the Behemoth and, not wanting to wait to find out if another of these giant abominations would join the party, Damian followed the ghoul inside.

The interior of the History Museum was lit by braziers. In the center of the rotunda, which was located after the entrance and the ticket and information desk, Damian remained in admiration, staring at the enormous hairy mammoth and the dinosaur skeleton, although it was partially destroyed. The place was relatively untouched. Everything was made of marble and beige and black stone, and the flames of the braziers were reflecting on the walls. Damian left behind the small reception behind him and entered the large hall. He stood in the middle and looked around him. Several large arches led to different exhibits in the museum, each one dedicated to a conflict that had bloodied the History of the United-States. Damian recalled Mr. Brotch's History class in the Vault as he read about the American Civil War, World War II, and the Battle of Anchorage.

Most of the arches were blocked by rockslides and Damian regretted that he was unable to go inside to admire the historical relics that were still to be stored there. The ghoul was right, he was indeed a tourist. At this thought, he realized with sadness and bitterness that the History of mankind was nothing but an endless succession of wars, remembering what his father had said on this subject.

_"History is but a succession of conflicts. Everyone in the Vault knows the date of the Great War or the Battle of Anchorage or the Battle of Pearl Harbor, even if it was more than two or three centuries ago, but no one knows the date of the discovery of the vaccine against rabies or smallpox."_

Damian was taken from his thoughts when a heavy detonation sounded behind the door to the Mall. A small trickle of dust fell from the ceiling.

"Looks like it's going to be a big one this time," the ghoul said, raising her head and dusting her jacket.

While he was thinking about his old History lessons, Damian hadn't noticed that the ghoul was standing right at the edge of an imposing skull-shape sculpture, coming out of a carved stone wall. Under the skull, an alcove leading to a row of doors, topped with the words "_Underworld Journey"_.

Damian approached, a shiver running down his spine.

"What... What is this place?"

The ghoul turned to Damian and, noticing that his eyes were looking at the strange sculpture, she raised her head in turn.

"That's Underwolrd. This is our home."

"_"Home"_?"

"Yeah, our home. The ghouls. Why don't you come on out and take a walk, wait for it to cool off outside?"

The ghoul noticed that Damian was a little reluctant to do that.

"Don't worry, tourist. If you don't have anything against normal ghouls like me, then everything will be fine and there are no ferals in Underworld. They're in the other wings of the museum."

Damian hesitated for a few more seconds and headed for the door under the skull after a second detonation shook the walls.

A long hall stretched out in front of Damian. On each side, two large staircases. Large columns identical to the one in the museum's rotunda lined the stairs and supported the balcony. Flags of the exhibition hung from the ceiling. A little further on, Damian noticed a large sculpture. A black rock formation that seemed to spring up from the ground and on which human figures were climbing in desperate poses. A rather theatrical representation of Hell.

All eyes were on Damian. He noted that all those present were ghouls, like those in the Megaton saloon or at the entrance to the museum. The ghouls looked at him suspiciously and then returned to their activities.

The ghoul Damian had been following was in the middle of a discussion with a couple of ghouls. One of them, a man, looked at Damian and motioned for him to come closer.

"Welcome to Underworld, smoothskin," the ghoul said with a smile.

"_"Smoothskin"_?" asked Damian. "Uh... What's that?"

"Guess you have not seen many ghoul, eh?" said the ghoul. "Well, YOU, are a smoothskin. You still have skin on your body, not like us. Thus the name. Anyway, Willow says you're here to sightsee."

"No, I was on my way to the Museum of Technology when I ran into... Your friend."

"Yeah, you really picked your moment," laughed the ghoul. "It's been pretty quiet lately, but since yesterday, the Mall has become worse than Anchorage back in the day. I'm Quinn, by the way. I'm in charge of supplying Underworld, but right now I'm just looking after Tullip's store."

He pointed to the other ghoul beside him, a female, wearing a leather outfit and a pink sweater. Damian introduced himself in turn and gave Tullip a shy nod.

"Usually we don't like humans very much. Many of yours are ghoul haters bastards, unable to tell the difference between us and the ferals that live the metro tunnels or the ruins of D.C., so don't be too surprised if the locals aren't very happy to see you. The reason we came here is because we were forced to do so."

Although attenuated by the thickness of the walls, they heard a brief series of detonations coming from outside.

"Looks like you're here for a while, smoothskin. You should take a look around, we have everything you need, if you have money and ask nicely. If you need a room, just check upstairs. To quench your thirst, it's also upstairs at the Ninth Circle. Otherwise, if it's a doctor you need, it's down there."

"Thanks, Quinn."

"I'll see you one of these days, smoothskin."

Quinn walked away with Willow and Tullip. Damian sighed and looked around. He was stuck here until the fighting outside stopped. He decided to stay and rest for a while, but before he did, he went to the doctor Quinn had told him about.

_"The Chop Shop."_ That was the name of the clinic. Damian found the name dubious and walked suspiciously through the door. He wanted to get his arm stitched up. Theoretically, the wound was not supposed to get infected with the Stimpak, but he had heard his father warning him about the dangers of an infected wound so that he didn't want to try the experiment himself.

The clinic was strewn with beds that at first glance seemed quite comfortable. Damian noticed that one area of the clinic was occupied by the corpses of feral ghouls. The wall at the back of the clinic had a large bay window reinforced with wire mesh. Damian approached.

Behind the glass, two feral ghouls were walking slowly. A bright yellow beam was coming out of their body, as if the ghouls were walking lightbulbs. Damian brought his face closer to the glass. The two ghouls turned their heads towards him, and he took a few steps back. They stared at him for a moment and then wandered back into the small closed room where they were. Damian turned around when he heard someone clearing his throat behind him and saw a ghoul with a blood-stained T-shirt, brown fatigues and small grey latex gloves.

"I hope you're here to help me. I just needed some fresh human subjects."

Damian backed away and hit the glass. He put his hand on his gun as the ghoul raised her hands to him and burst out laughing.

"I'm messing with you, smoothskin. I already have everything I need in terms of test subjects, and ghouls don't eat humans. Well, not the normal ones anyway. Now put that away before Cerberus or Quinn sees you and blows your brains out, I just cleaned the place."

Damian took his hand away from his pistol and took a few steps towards the ghoul.

"Doctor Barrows at your service. What brings you to the Chop Shop?"

Damian hesitated briefly before answering. He showed Barrows his wound, still slightly open. The ghoul looked up at Damian with a raised eyebrow, probably looking for a joke to make, but motioned Damian to take a seat. Damian settled down and saw the ghoul coming back with a new pair of gloves and a small medical kit.

"Try to remain still. It would be a shame if I cut you," the ghoul laughed.

Damian masked his apprehension and looked around him. While he was being treated, he saw another ghoul, a female one, enter the clinic. She greeted the doctor and gave Damian a broad, friendly smile. Damian smiled back, surprised to see a ghoul so friendly to him. The ghoul put on a blood-stained blouse and approached one of the ferals corpses. Damian felt nauseous when he saw that the ghoul was about to dissect the corpse and he shivered when he heard the ghoul open the corpse's skull.

Barrows looked up from the wound and when he saw his patient's expression, he chuckled.

"Don't worry. We're not going to dissect you. I mean, if we do, we'll wait until you're dead first."

"Doctor Barrows," said the female ghoul, who was now sticking tiny needles into the brain of the dead feral. "I don't think your patient came to hear your peculiar humor."

Barrows let out a sigh. When Damian asked him what he intended to do with the dead feral ghouls, his face took on a more serious expression. Barrows and his assistant, Nurse Graves, were working on a cure for what he called ghoulification, the process that turned humans into ghouls. Exposed to high doses of radiation, a human being could either be lucky enough to die or be turned into a walking corpse. Barrows also told Damian about the resentment humans felt towards ghouls. Damian understood better the looks that the people of Underworld had given him when he arrived.

The ghoul finished stitching up Damian's wound at the same time as these explanations of his experiences, telling him that he was convinced that the key to reversing gelling was to study unmutated human subjects.

Damian didn't dare to ask him how he was going to do it, suspecting that he wouldn't like the answer. He got up and took some caps out of his bag when he saw someone lying in one of the clinic's beds. Damian paid the ghoul and approached the bed.

A woman, human, about thirty years old and with red hair, was lying in the bed. With her mouth slightly open, Damian initially thought she was dead until he saw her chest rise gently at regular intervals. He noticed numerous cuts on her shoulders and a large succession of bandages on her left arm and chest.

"I'm afraid she'll be unconscious for a while," Barrows told over Damian's shoulder.

He stepped aside and let the ghoul pass and grab a stethoscope. Barrows then began to auscultate the young woman.

"Who is she? And what happened to her?" Damian asked when the doctor was finished.

"A mercenary, from Reilly's Rangers. Quinn found her in the ruins half-dead and brought her back here. She's been in a coma for several days. Broken leg, internal bleeding, multiple lacerations and contusions. My guess is she messed with Super Mutants and lost. It's a real miracle she's still alive."

Damian heard the woman grunt. She grimaced and slowly opened her eyes. She moved backwards as she saw Barrows leaning over her.

"I think Sleeping Beauty would rather see you than me," said the ghoul doctor as he walked away.

Damian approached and shyly smiled at the young woman.

"Where... Where am I? What's going on? Where am I?"

She was looking around and seemed lost.

"To Underworld. You were in a coma and the ghouls took care of you."

"In a coma? For how long?"

"A few days from what the doctor said," Damian replied, pointing his thumb to Barrows. "He said you have a broken leg and that you had internal bleeding. You should take it easy."

"My men! Where are they?

The woman straightened up and grimaced immediately, putting her hand on her stomach. Damian forced her to lie down.

"Easy, you're in no condition to move. I even wonder how you could be awake, from what the doctor told me."

"I don't care! I've got to get back to my men, they're in danger!"

She tried to get up again and almost fell out of bed. Damian barely caught her and forced her to lie down.

"Calm down! You need to stay in bed, or you'll hurt yourself even worse!"

The authoritative tone he had just taken surprised himself. The young woman grumbled and wedged her head into the pillow, staring at the ceiling, like she was lost in her thoughts.

"My name's Damian. Damian Franklin. You think you can tell me who you are and what happened to you?"

She sighed.

"Name's Reilly. I'm in command of the Reilly's Rangers. We were out mapping the ruins of Vernon Square when…"

She frowned, probably struggling to gather her memory.

"We were ambushed by Super Mutants. There... There was too many of them and they forced us to retreat inside an old hospital... I think the name's Our Lady of Hope. Hope... Talk about hope, the place was crawling with more of these fuckers."

Damian could read the anger on the young woman's face as she spoke.

"We headed to the roof and found access to the nearby hotel. The damn mutant kept coming. We went up to the roof and..."

She was having trouble finding her words.

"It's my fault," she said on the verge of tears. "Poor Theo. If we had retreated to another place, he would still be alive and... My men... We must save them. I have to go help them."

"In your condition you won't go far before passing out," Barrows said as he approached.

He turned on a small flashlight and watched Reilly's eyes, shining the beam of light on her pupils. Visibly satisfied, he returned to his desk and rummaged through a pile of papers.

"Save my men! Please bring them back!"

"Wha... What?"

Reilly gave Damian a look of pleading.

"My men have been stuck on that roof for I don't know how long, I need you to save them!"

"Look... Reilly, I'm... I'm not a soldier. To tell you the truth, I don't even know how I didn't get killed by one of those Super Mutants or one of those freaks who chop people up all over the Wasteland."

As he was talking, Damian was looking at the ground. He couldn't sustain Reilly's imploring gaze, certainly the same one he must have done to everyone he had asked for information about his father. Reilly put her hand on Damian's hand. He looked up at her. A begging look, hopeless. Tears streamed from her eyes and down her cheeks, digging a small wake in the dirt on her face. Strangely, Reilly's look reminded him of Amata's when they said goodbye to each other at the entrance to the Vault.

Damian sighed and ran his hand over his face. Helping people had always been more or less a second nature to him, even though in the Vault, the risk of dismemberment or a horrible death was much lower than here. He finally nodded.

"Thank you!"

Reilly took a deep breath before sighing, visibly relieved.

"What should I expect?" Damian asked.

"You'll have to take the metro to Metro Central and follow the tunnels to Freedom Street station and then to Vernon Square. I don't know why, but this place is crawling with Super Mutants, as if something was drawing them there. When you get there, I suggest you go the same way we did."

"Why should I do that? Can't I go straight through the hotel?"

"The hospital leads directly to the hotel floors. Once you get to the second floor of the hospital, you'll find an antenna that crashed and now forms a bridge between the two buildings. This is the only way to access the hotel floors and the roof. Afterwards you just have to follow the corpses."

Reilly's face showed sadness again.

"Do you... Do you have anything to write down?"

Damian looked around. Barrows, listening in on the conversation from a distance, gave him a piece of paper and a pen. Reilly scribbled a series of numbers on the paper and gave it to Damian.

"It's... It's the code to Theo's ammo cache. He's the one who was carrying our supplies when..."

She left the rest of her sentence hanging and remained silent for a few moments.

"Bring the supplies to my men. And bring them back to me alive. I'm not likely to move from there for a while anyway."

Damian nodded his head and stood up. He walked towards the door before stopping and turning towards Reilly.

"What if... What if your men... What if I'm too late?"

Reilly looked down and pursed her lips.

"I asked one of my men to broadcast a distress call. Every five minutes, he's supposed to broadcast on every frequency. If you get the message, it'll mean they're still alive. I... I know I'm asking a lot of you, but... It's very important to me. The Rangers are all I have left."

Damian gave him the most convincing smile he could muster.

"Be careful," Reilly warned him. I don't want you to get yourself killed because of the mistakes I've made."

Damian nodded and left the clinic.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed. Until next time.**


	7. Chapter 7: Pinned down

**Enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

Damian had left Underworld and the Mall after a two-hour wait. The weather had deteriorated, big dark clouds had obscured the sun and it was starting to rain. A small, thin, cold rain was dripping from the sky. His journey to the Vernon Square station had been smooth, except when he arrived in a station called Freedom Street. The tunnels and maintenances corridor he crossed were radioactive. The level was not very high, but it was enough to make anyone sick after prolonged exposure. Luckily, he still had the radiation pills he found in the Super-Duper Mart and chewed on them while he crossed the station.

Vernon Square was nothing but a vast pile of ruins. Damian stepped outside the metro, spreading his arms and turning his hands and face to the sky and the rain. He closed his eyes and felt the water running down his face. The rain. Something so natural to Man and yet so strange to Damian. A slight smile came over his face. He opened his eyes and remembered where he was. In front of him, an old car park full of rusty car wrecks with an old pedestrian bridge lay in front of the metro exit. Just behind the entrance to the parking lot was a large ten-story building made of brick and white stone. Large letters forming the words _"Statesman Hotel"_ stood at the top of the building. Damian looked around and listened. The only sounds he could hear were the rain falling on the rusted cars or in the puddles all around him.

With his thumb and middle finger, he massaged his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

"What the hell am I doing here?" he whispered, looking up to the sky. "Guess I have to thank you, Dad. I owe you this bad habit for helping others when I already have things to do."

Damian looked at the hotel and turned on his Pip-Boy screen. He turned on the radio and searched for the different frequencies available. In total, three frequencies were available. He turned down the volume on the speakers and activated the first one. He heard the same martial tune as when he had met the little flying robots. The second frequency was Galaxy News Radio, Damian recognizing Three Dog's voice. He cut the transmission and ducked himself a little more behind the car.

The large silhouette of a Super Mutant had just appeared on the pedestrian bridge. The Mutant was equipped with a huge machine gun, from which came a long strip of ammunition linked to a large grey box in its back. The mutant crossed the footbridge and disappeared into the ruins of a building. Damian stood motionless, staring at the spot where the monster had left his sight.

After a minute, Damian turned on the third frequency. The Pip-Boy's speakers were spitting static. Damian waited, one minute, two minutes, three minutes. According to Reilly, her men were supposed to broadcast a distress call every five minutes. Damian kept waiting. Finally, his Pip-Boy sizzled. A nervous man's voice came out of the speakers. At the same time, shots from the top of the hotel rang out.

_"To anyone listening on this frequency, this is Butcher of Reilly's Rangers! We are pinned down on the roof of the Statesman Hotel by a large group of Super Mutants and are running out of ammunition! I repeat, we are pinned down on the Statesman Hotel's roof and are requesting assistance! Access to the hotel is..."_

An explosion roared. Damian looked up and saw smoke coming from one of the top floors of the hotel. A large flaming mass went through the window and crashed to the ground. Damian thought he saw a Super Mutant in the flames. He ducked behind the car when a dozen Super Mutants left the ruins surrounding the parking lot and headed towards the hotel. Damian brought his Pip-Boy close to his ear.

_"...Mutants! Requesting immediate assistance from any nearby allied units picking up this distress call!"_

A metallic whistle in the loudspeakers masked the mercenary's voice and another explosion escaped this time from the hotel roof.

_"Help us! Butcher out!"_

The transmission went silent. Damian looked up at the hotel where the shooting was still going on.

"Damn it..." muttered Damian.

He grabbed his rifle and left the parking lot. When he got to the street, he looked around. On the right, Damian saw a large destroyed antenna, forming a bridge between the Statesman and the building on the other side of the street. The entrance to Our Lady of Hope was at the corner of the building. A bloody handprint was on the door. Damian pushed the door open.

The hospital lobby looked like it had been ravaged by a hurricane. The chairs and benches in the lobby were all overturned. Damian turned on the lamp of his Pip-Boy. A multitude of rifle and pistol casings lay on the floor. Damian approached a double door to his left. He heard noises from the other side, children crying and laughing. Instantly he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and a shiver ran down his spine. Damian shook his head and looked around. While he was in the Vault, he had talked with Amata about the most terrifying things they could imagine. Many things since he came out of the Vault were at the top of the list, but what he had always imagined to be disturbing were the laughter or crying of a child at home at night when you were alone. Now that he heard that, in a decayed hospital and knew that it was impossible for a baby to be here with him, he knew how dreadful the experience was.

Then he heard footsteps and guessed that a Super Mutant was coming. He heard the monster sniggering in a guttural voice. The laughter gave way to an electronic beep and detonation, followed by a scream of pain. Damian opened the door slightly and glanced. A long dark corridor stretched out in front of him. In the center, next to the remains of a cradle, was the corpse of a Super Mutant whose arms and part of its face had been torn off.

A trap. The Reilly's Rangers had set traps everywhere, and this mutant had just set one off. Damian kept moving forward, making sure he didn't touch anything and constantly watching where he set foot.

At the end of the corridor, he turned right. There were two doors on either side. As Damian approached. He saw one of the doors open. He pointed his gun and the beam of his lamp at the opening. There was nothing. The door had opened wide, but nothing had come out or in. A tentacle slid down the doorframe. A deformed thing appeared in the opening. Something resembling a foul mixture of a human, a dog and an insect. A bald human head, with three long tentacles escaping from the mouth. A human body with severed arms and bones protruding from the shoulders. From the belly, bones or fangs came out and formed a mouth. The rest of the creature's body was a mass of flesh from which several human arms were pulled out.

The abomination snapped its tentacles and walked slowly towards Damian, swinging from right to left as the human arms that served as its legs slid across the ground. Damian remained paralyzed, unable to take his eyes off the horror that was inexorably coming towards him. The thing was only a meter away from him. Damian felt one of the tentacles wrapping around his ankle and another slowly slipping down his arm.

He pulled the trigger and screamed in terror. He emptied his magazine onto the creature. The thing silently collapsed to the ground. Damian dropped his rifle and drew his pistol, putting another five bullets through the head and back of the thing. Damian heard heavy footsteps coming towards him and a guttural voice. He picked up his assault rifle and jumped into the room in front of which the abomination had come out.

He was in one of the hospital rooms. Several beds were laid out, all occupied by human remains. Damian crept to the other end of the room as he heard the Super Mutant screaming in rage at the sight of the dead abomination. Damian heard the Super Mutant come in behind him. He looked over his shoulder and dove behind one of the beds just before a bullet whistled in his ears. He raised his pistol and fired several rounds. He heard the Super Mutant roar as it approached. Damian waited. He got up and fired. His bullet lodged in a fire extinguisher on the wall and exploded, throwing bits of metal everywhere and hitting the Super Mutant in its throat. The gas in the fire extinguisher engulfed the mutant, giving Damian time to reload his assault rifle. He placed two new cartridges in the monster's chest and the monster collapsed to the ground.

Damian left the room after making sure the way was clear. He followed the main corridor, taking a brief glance at the different rooms, praying that he would not come face to face with one of those creeping abominations and picking up the few Stimpaks still present in the first aid kits hanging on the walls.

He finally arrived in a large room lit by daylight coming out of two long rows of windows. The room was once meant to be a place of relaxation for medical staff and patients. Many stretchers or wheelchairs still occupied by bones were scattered all over the place, as well as dead bodies of Super Mutants. One had both legs torn off. Damian noticed the blackened marks on the ground next to the monster. He walked cautiously, keeping an eye on the corpses, convinced that they would wake up and attack him. His uneasiness was heightened when he realized that what he had taken for great chandeliers were actually nets filled with meat, bones and human limbs.

Damian followed the shell casings and blood stains on the floor that were leading him deeper into the hospital and climbed a small staircase up to the second level. He arrived in front of a wide corridor. To his right was a collapsed staircase and to his left he could see the entrance to a cafeteria, just as devastated as the rest of the building. Shell casings and dead bodies of Super Mutants led in that direction. Damian walked through the cafeteria, skirting the wall and the windows to avoid the body of one of those abominations with tentacle tongue. A burning smell was in the air and Damian noticed that it emanated from the charred remains of a mutant.

He pulled the door to the kitchen and almost had a heart attack. The corpse of a Super Mutant slipped and collapsed right in front of him. He sighed and stepped over the creature and walked through the kitchen to a stairwell. The only place accessible from there was a bedroom. The wall facing the street, the ceiling and part of the floor had collapsed when the antenna that formed the bridge to the Statesman Hotel fell. The shooting on the roof of the hotel had ceased. The idea that the Rangers were dead crossed his mind, but a brief exchange of gunshot coming from the roof of the hotel proved him wrong.

Damian glanced out into the street. The antenna was much higher than he had imagined. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and stepped forward, trying to look ahead. The antenna had pierced a hole in the third or fourth floor of the hotel, taking part of the façade with it. Damian didn't care, all that mattered to him for the moment was to cross that bridge and enter the building.

Walking on an old radio antenna was not easy. Damian felt the metal creaking under his weight and had to crawl on all fours. One step after the other, he constantly cast nervous glances towards the street, the parking lot and the ruined buildings and towards the hotel.

He finally arrived in the hotel and leaned against one of the walls of the destroyed room to take a breath. Damian wondered how Reilly and her men had managed to get through when all around them, the Super Mutants were shooting at them. It seems that sometimes luck had a lot to do with perilous situations.

Damian stood up and approached the door. He turned the handle and pulled. The door wouldn't open. He pulled harder and then backed away and tried to kick it down. The door didn't move a millimeter. Damian lowered his head and looked down at the floor below. The room below was also destroyed, and the door was ajar. He sighed, checked that his weapons were loaded and crouched on the ledge before jumping down.

He reached the entrance to the room. The door to the corridor was blocked by a landslide. The only way to continue was to reach the floor below through a hole in the ground. Damian fell on the bedroom bed and opened the door. He could see a small trail of blood on the wall and a little further on, the corpse of a Super Mutant. The flank of the mutant had been ripped off and a shapeless mass of flesh and organs had spilled on the floor. Damian noticed the remains of a wire on the floor and a large black burn mark on the wall. Another of the traps set by the Rangers to delay their pursuers.

Damian's mind drifted for a few seconds, imagining a group of Super Mutants screaming and shooting in all directions walking on the same antenna he had just used to cross the street. He shook his head and refocused on his task.

The hotel was like a maze. Collapsed corridors, torn down walls, dead Super Mutant corpses and Ranger booby traps, everything to make the place as gloomy as it was dangerous. He managed to sneak up to a stairwell and fell on a man's body, lying against the wall.

His forearms had been torn off, part of his torso was open, and his lower jaw was missing. Damian suffocated a cough of disgust and tried to control himself not to vomit. The young man must have been dead for a few days, maybe a week. Damian was about to walk away when he noticed a large box next to the corpse. He pulled it towards him and saw a keypad connected to an electronic lock. On the side of the box, two letters _"R"_ were painted white and an drawing, representing a four-leaf clover with two crossed swords. Damian grabbed the piece of paper that Reilly had given him with the code for the ammunition box. He entered the code and heard the lock disengage. Inside, there was a long strip of cartridges as well as several assault rifle magazines and boxes of 10mm bullets.

Damian spilled the contents of the box into his bag and resumed his ascent. He froze when in front of him stood a Super Mutant. The monster screamed something incomprehensible and grabbed a long plank studded in his back. He ran to Damian when a flash appeared on the monster's side and he fell down the stairs, spilling his entrails in his fall. Damian heard footsteps coming from the floor below and climbed up the last steps four at a time and closed the door of the staircase behind him. He waited a few seconds and when he saw that nothing happened, he went on his way.

This floor was in the same condition as the others, although this time there were a few human skeletons, probably here for two centuries. Damian entered an umpteenth room. The bed was occupied by human bones. He noticed a small holotape in the corpse's hand. He approached to inspect it before he ducked against the wall and prepared his rifle. He heard a Super Mutant walking and passing right next to him out of the corner of his eye, Damian saw the monster's shadow disappear at the corner of a corridor. Damian exhaled quietly and turned his attention back to the holotape. He took it and turned it around in his hands. He could read the little label, _"For my Little Moonbeam"_. He shrugged and put the holotape back in his bag, thinking he could use it to record something on it or that he could sell it in case he needed some caps.

He left the room and followed the path of bullets casings and dead Super Mutant corpses. He climbed up several more floors, constantly turning around to make sure he wasn't followed, inspecting every corner for a mutant silhouette, listening for footsteps or the clicking of the tentacles of those filthy creatures he'd met in the hospital, being careful not to step on a tripwire or a mine or anything that would make him end up like the corpses of the Super Mutants that littered some of the hotel parts.

Sweaty and on the verge of a nervous breakdown, he finally arrived, after climbing another stairwell and almost being torn apart by a bag of grenades hanging from the ceiling, in a corridor that had suffered less than the rest of the hotel. It led to a door leading to the hotel restaurant. Damian half-opened the door and saw that the restaurant was being used as a resting place for the Super Mutants. A group of about ten of these monsters was in the room, sitting on chairs much too small for them or rummaging through the bar shelves.

Damian closed the door, shaking. It was impossible to get through without being seen. He could hear the Super Mutants talking to each other. This time he managed to catch a few words of the conversation, although the _"green stuff"_ story the two mutants were talking about didn't make any sense.

Damian walked away from the door. It was suicide. If he tried to cross this room, he wouldn't make two meters before being killed. He heard shouting and guttural laughter coming from the restaurant. He took another look and saw that half of the Super Mutants were heading for a staircase leading to an inner balcony that surrounded the main room. They walked along the wall and disappeared from Damian's sight. Seconds later, he heard gunshots and a brief series of explosions.

Damian gently pushed the door open and backed up his weapon. He felt his whole body shaking gently. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and when he opened them again, fired at the first mutant he saw. The monster collapsed from his chair. The four remaining mutants looked around them. Three moved to the back of the room while the fourth approached Damian. The young man fired and hit his target in the heart.

He jumped up on his legs and sprinted up the stairs the Super Mutants had taken. He looked over his shoulder and saw the three mutants coming back with a group of four others, one carrying one of those big machine guns. Damian accelerated. He heard a whistle behind him and soon found himself in the middle of a hail of bullets. He jumped over several Super Mutant corpses and broke down a door leading to a staircase and then another door.

Damian pushed the door open and kept running. A slight sense of relief came over him when he saw the light of day and felt the little rain dripping on his face. The roof was also littered with shell casings, dead Super Mutants and empty magazines. Damian continued his frantic run, heading towards the shots he heard in front of him, without taking the time to look behind him or think about how rushing into a gunfight was by far one of the stupidest ideas he had ever had in his life. He heard an explosion over his head, and barely slowed down to see the torn trunk of a Super Mutant fall in front of him.

He walked up a few steps and when he reached the top, a hot, viscous liquid splashed in his face. Damian stumbled and fell backwards to the bottom of the stairs. He got up and saw that he was covered in blood. He didn't have time to panic or to think that a large mass had fallen on him. He barely moved to the side and saw the body of a Super Mutant fall at his feet, his chest exploded, and his rib cage destroyed.

Damian got up, forgetting that he was covered in viscera, and walked up the stairs. He reached a small terrace with a fountain. A few bodies of Super Mutants were leaning against the fountain or lying on a pile of chairs or garden tables. A set of columns surrounded the terrace and Damian noticed a large destroyed antenna, probably the one that now served as a bridge to the hospital, and where the name of the hotel was still hanging.

Damian stepped forward when a bullet whistled in his ears. He ducked to the ground and heard shouting at the other end of the terrace.

"Cease fire Goddamn it! Can't you see he's human?"

Damian crawled to the fountain and glanced over to the other side. Hidden behind chairs, tables and a small wall of cinder blocks, three people wearing khaki military armor looked nervously at him.

"Hey! You there, hurry up and come before all the Super Mutants in the building come back!"

Damian saw the three silhouettes lower their weapons. He got up and ran towards them. Once he got behind their barricade, he could see them better. The one who had spoken to him was a man, with squared brown hair, in his thirties. His face was covered with small patches of dried blood and he was holding a submachinegun firmly against him. Next to him and holding one of these heavy machine guns in her hands, was a Hispanic woman with the same haircut. The third was a man. He was carrying an assault rifle across his chest and seemed to be looking at an elevator control panel.

They all wore the same khaki military armor, stamped with a four-leaf clover and two crossed swords on their chests and had the same nervous, tired look on their faces.

"Are you the Reilly's Rangers?" Damian asked.

"Yeah," said the man who had called out to him, tapping the breastplate of his uniform, which had _"Reilly's Rangers"_ painted in white on the chest. "I'm Butcher, I'm the team medic and this is Brick and Donovan."

He nodded at his two friends. Brick, the woman, nodded back, while Donovan cursed and tapped his foot on an empty soda bottle, without looking away from the elevator.

"What the hell are you doing here, and who the hell are you? How did you get here? "Butcher asked. "You're covered in blood. Are you hurt?"

"I... No, I don't think so, no... Reilly's sent me to get you."

"Reilly? Is she alive? Is she okay? Where is she? Is she hurt?"

"No, well, yes, but it's not too bad," stammered Damian as the adrenaline started to wane. "She's in Underworld. She told me you were here."

At these words, Butcher let out a sigh of relief. He smiled, staring into the void.

"Thank God, she is okay," he murmured.

He turned his attention back to Damian and returned to the serious, preoccupied look he had before.

"Well, we have to get out of here, I guess the shots we heard downstairs and in the hospital were you and the others?"

"The others? No... I came alone..."

Butcher looked at Damian in disbelief.

"Wait, you mean that you cleaned the whole building by yourself? All the Super Mutants and Centaurs are dead?"

"The what? No, I snuck up here, some of the Super Mutants were already dead when I got here, and I almost got killed in the restaurant downstairs."

Butcher put his hand over his face. He had trouble believing that Reilly had really sent a single man to help them, especially someone like Damian.

"Well, I have good news and bad news for you," said Butcher. "Good news is you are the luckiest man on this fucking planet for getting here in one piece. The bad news is you're now stuck like the rest of us."

"What do you mean _"stuck"_? I found your ammo crate on the stairs on the way up. You can make your way to the street level now, right?"

"If it was that easy, kid, we'd be out of here by now," Donovan said as he approached. Those mutants bastards are smarter than we thought. Now they just attack us once in a while, just to keep us awake and to check on our defense and ammo, before coming for finishing us off."

"So how are we going to get down?" asked Damian, who was beginning to realize what he had just stepped into.

"You're the reinforcements, you tell us," Donovan said.

"All right, everybody calms down," Butcher said authoritatively. "You say you have our ammunition, right?"

Damian nodded and grabbed his bag. He opened it and immediately the three Rangers put their hands inside to get the ammunition. The nervous expression they all had on their faces subsided a little now that they were supposed to feel better armed.

Butcher stood up and looked around, pensive.

"Quite honestly, I can't blame you for sneaking in here quietly, rather than coming in blasting all over the place," he said, looking at Damian. "Either way, it doesn't solve our problem. We're still trapped on this roof. You must have gone the same way we did, so you've noticed that most of the hotel stairwells have collapsed and even if we managed to reach the antenna between the hotel and Our Lady of Hope, we'd be stuck.

"So how do we get down of here? Damian asked nervously.

"Well I have an idea, but I doubt you'd survive it," Butcher said after a brief silence.

Damian didn't have time to wonder whether the mercenary was being funny or serious, as he continued talking.

"Donovan is trying to fix the damn elevator. The problem is that without power, this thing won't work, even with Donovan's magic fingers."

"What we need," intervened Donovan as he finished loading his assault rifle. "Is a power source so I can reroute the system. Trouble is, I don't have anything on hand to do that. On the way up, we passed a maintenance room in the restaurant. I saw that there was a decommissioned Protectron inside. I need you to go down there and bring me back its fission battery. I should be able to get this thing working again."

"Are you kidding me?" Damian cried out.

"Well, unless you can learn how to fly or have a better idea, we'll be here for a while," Donovan answered with a shrug.

Damian ran his hand through his hair. He sighed and nodded.

Damian opened the restaurant door. He glanced down the corridor and entered. He walked silently, his rifle pointed straight ahead. When he reached the balcony, he slowly tilted his head into the restaurant. The group of Super Mutant was still there. Damian exhaled slowly. He aimed his gun at the mutant and fired at those in the back of the room. One of them collapsed, the second one turned around and opened fire at Damian.

The room was filled with a firestorm. Damian leaned against the wall. The heat wave and the flames disappeared almost immediately. He looked down below. Most of the mutants in the back of the room were nothing more than gigantic torches screaming in pain and spinning around.

A bullet slammed beside Damian. Three other mutants in the restaurant had drawn their guns and were shooting at the young man. Damian retreated into the hallway and crouched behind an overturned table. He saw the Super Mutants coming further down the hallway. Damian pulled the trigger on his gun. The first mutant fell backwards and was immediately replaced by one of his kind, much bigger and uglier. Damian fired again. An explosion engulfed the mutant, ripping his arm off. Damian raised his eyebrows before firing again.

His magazine was empty and all the mutants were dead. He reloaded his rifle and approached the pile of corpses that had just formed. He stepped over the remnants of the Super Mutants as best he could. He must have shot a grenade or an explosive device, judging by the metal shards in the walls and the multiple wounds on the mutant bodies. He was still intrigued by the great spray of flame that had occurred, but he was just happy that it had made his job easier, even though he had also almost ended up like the charred, smelly bodies of the Super Mutants in front of him.

Damian went around the restaurant and found the room Donovan had told him in the corner. The robot Protectron was face down on the floor. Damian crouched down next to it and looked for a control box or a slot for a fission battery. He saw a small flap in the back of the machine and after some efforts and with the help of a screwdriver, Damian opened the flap. The fission battery was there, and Damian let out a sigh of relief. He removed the battery and ran to the roof after making sure that no Super Mutant was around.

He climbed up to the terrace triumphantly waving the battery.

"Great!" Donovan smiled. "Now let's get the hell out of here!"

The mercenary grabbed the battery and placed it in the elevator control box. After a few seconds, they heard a _"ding"_ and the doors opened. The three mercenaries rushed inside with Damian. Butcher pressed the ground floor button. The descent was silent, each one hoping that the elevator cables wouldn't snap and toss them into a deadly multi-floor fall.

The door opened into a small waiting hall. On the other side, an interior balcony overlooked the lobby. The Rangers entered the lobby when a storm of bullets fell on them. Butcher collapsed backwards, hit in the stomach. Damian heard a shrill whistle and turned his head towards Brick. She had fired her heavy machine gun and was literally raining death down on the Super Mutants in the hallway.

Damian leaned over to Butcher. He was shaking and getting paler and paler. A puddle of blood grew larger beneath his body. Donovan grabbed his head and straightened it up, asking his comrade what to do.

"My... My legs... Lift... Lift... Lift..."

"Lift his legs!" Donovan shouted to Damian.

He crouched down in front of Butcher and lifted his legs, placing them under a large suitcase that was lying on the floor.

"Don't worry Butcher, you gonna be okay," Donovan said, putting his hands on the wound.

"We have to move!" Brick shouted. "We can't stay here!"

Damian grabbed his bag and reached inside, his hands shaking. He pulled out a Stimpak and injected it into Butcher's thigh. The injection seemed to calm him down. Donovan took off his armor and palpated his body. Slowly he turned Butcher over and slid his hand until he found the outlet of one of the bullets.

"One more!" Donovan shouted as he turned towards Damian.

"His liver is damaged, it's not the Stimpaks that will save him, but a doctor!"

"I said one more!"

Damian injected a second Stimpak into Butcher's thigh. The mercenary slowly stopped shaking, until he stopped moving. Blood came out of his mouth. Brick came closer. She had wiped out all the Super Mutants.

"What should we do, Butcher, tell us," she asked.

"You... You...," stammered the mercenary.

Donovan grabbed him by the armpits and put him on his feet. He turned him over and carried him on his shoulder. Without saying a word, he walked to the exit, followed by Damian and Brick.

* * *

**I tried to make this chapter a little scary, as Centaurs are not the most pleasant looking creatures of the Fallout universe, and that an abandonned hospital or hotel with 200+ years dead bodies and mutants would be a terrible place to visit. Or an elementary school with feral fhouls children. Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Until next time.**


	8. Chapter 8: The Monument to Man's demise

**Hello everyone. Hope you're all doing well. Please enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

The street outside the hotel was empty. Damian and the three mercenaries reached the metro station and went underground. Butcher was in bad shape and Damian knew the Stimpaks weren't going to save him.

They finally arrived at the museum station and went straight to the Underworld clinic. Damian helped Donovan and Brick to carry Butcher, who had just felt unconscious.

"Put him on the bed, there," ordered Barrows as he saw them enter.

Reilly, who had gotten up and put on a grey shirt and shorts, approached with the help of a pair of crutches. Seeing Damian and the others covered in blood, a horrified expression ran across her face.

"He needs a new liver. Boy, it's a miracle he's not dead already," Barrows said as he headed for a small fridge.

He came back with a jar containing what Damian identified as a human liver, or at least he hoped the organ had belonged to a human and tried not to think about how it got there. Barrows ordered everyone out and locked himself and his assistant in his clinic.

Damian, Reilly, Donovan and Brick were all sitting around a table in the Ninth Circle, the bar in Underworld. Butcher was still in the clinic with Barrows and his assistant. Damian and Donovan had had to restrain Brick and Reilly when the ghoul who held the place commented on Butcher's condition and the mercenaries' state of mind. From that moment on, the bartender and another ghoul, equipped with a leather outfit and a rifle with a circular magazine, looked down on Damian and the others.

In the center of the table, a bottle of whisky still full. In front of each of the mercenaries and Damian, a small empty glass. Another glass was placed in front of a vacant seat. Damian suspected that the mercenaries were waiting to know Butcher's condition before drinking.

It had been two hours since Damian and the others had returned from Vernon Square. Reilly had insisted that Damian gave her a full report on what happened. The young woman had a preoccupied look on her face and her eyes were staring at the glass in front of her, as if she had wanted to make it levitate with her thoughts.

Barrows entered the bar. The three mercenaries stood up and looked at him with apprehension in their eyes. The ghoul nodded his head in a slight smile. The three mercenaries let out a sigh of relief and left the bar. Damian watched them walk away.

"Hey, kid, you should come," Donovan told him before leaving the bar.

Damian got up and walked towards the clinic under the inquisitive gaze of the barman and the bouncer.

Butcher was lying in the same bed as Reilly had been in earlier. Reilly sat at his bedside and looked at him with a smile on her face. Damian suspected there must be more than a professional relationship between them. The Ranger commander motioned for him to come closer.

"Thank you, for bringing my men back. I really don't know what I would do without them."

Not knowing what to say, Damian nodded and smiled slightly. According to Barrows, Butcher should be completely back on his feet in a few weeks. Reilly got up and grabbed her armor from the bedside. She went back to Damian.

"I think this armor will be a very good reward. You risked your life for us, so giving you this and a payment in caps will be a good start.

"No, I can't accept, the armor... It's yours and besides... I'm not a soldier, I told you. It's a real miracle that we all came back alive."

Reilly looked at Damian from head to toe and tried to hide a smile.

'No offense, but you look like shit in that thing. And this armor will protect you better than that vault suit.

Damian had no choice but to accept it. He left the clinic and retired to the bathroom to change his clothes. As he left, he admired himself in one of the mirrors that were still intact. Under the armor plates on his legs he had put on black fatigues. Under the breastplate and shoulder pads he had kept his grey T-shirt. He had also kept his belt and holster and finished readjusting the straps.

When he took off his suit, he dropped Amata's picture. He hastened to pick it up and wanted to store it inside the front of his armor but decided instead to put it in his bag.

Damian returned to the clinic. Brick and Donovan were talking in a low voice while observing the two luminescent ghouls on the other side of the window. Reilly turned around and nodded to Damian. She approached him.

"Well, you really look like a real Ranger in that armor. Wear it with pride. I've been thinking about what I told you about payment. You don't mind waiting till Butcher's in a better shape and we get back to our headquarters?

"No... No, I don't mind..."

"You seem preoccupied. Something bothering you?" asked Reilly worried.

Damian told her the reasons for his presence on the Mall and his story since his escape from the Vault. Reilly listened silently.

"I'm sorry to hear that. You've got a lot of nerve walking around the ruins of D.C., fresh out of a Vault like that. To think that I begged you to help me when you had your own problems."

Damian was about to respond when he heard Brick and Donovan approaching.

"We heard what you were saying about being on the Mall, and Brick and I, well, we've got your back on this one."

Damian raised his eyebrows. He took turns looking at Reilly and the two mercenaries.

"I... I, uh..."

"It's the least we can do to thank you for getting us off that roof," Donovan said as he grabbed his assault rifle.

"Yeah, Eugene and I really want to return the favor. Besides, it wouldn't be cool from the Rangers if we just said thank you and walked away."

Damian looked behind Brick and around him.

"Uh... Who's Eugene?"

A broad smile lit up Brick's face as Donovan rolled his eyes in exasperation. Brick pointed to her heavy machine gun on a table.

"Eugene's my minigun. With him, I can cut through the Super Mutant ranks or those assholes of Talon Company."

"Speaking of them, Reilly," cut Donovan off. "I hear they're very busy around the Capitol right now. We'll have to be careful when we get back to Seward."

Reilly nodded, a worried look mixed with disgust on her face.

"Talon Company? What's that?" Damian asked.

"A bunch of assholes who give, us, mercenaries a bad name," Reilly explained in disgust. "Those bastards take every contract they are offered, especially when it comes to assassination missions. If you see them, watch out. If there's anything they dislike about you, they won't have any remorse putting a bullet in your brain. Makes me wonder what the difference is between them and a bunch of Raiders.

"Yeah," said Brick. "If you see black combat armor stamped with white eagle claw, then it's Talon Company."

The three mercenaries asked Damian questions about the Museum of Technology. They didn't seem to be bothered by the idea of storming a building probably crawling with Super Mutants, or at least they didn't show it.

An hour later, Damian, Donovan and Brick left Underworld and the Museum of History, Reilly still being unable to do anything. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still as grey as ever, the same color as the surrounding buildings, adding an even more depressing note to the ruins. Donovan told Damian that the Museum of Technology was on the other side of the Mall. He also told him that everything between the Washington Monument and the Capitol was crawling with mutants.

Luckily, the Smithsonian's metro station made it possible to cross the Mall without being seen. The small group climbed the few steps of the metro exit and saw the museum was just to the right of them. Brick waved to them that the way was clear, and they walked to the front door.

The entrance to the museum was a large hall with columns and a staircase leading to a balcony. Part of the hall was obstructed by a wooden and cloth machine. Damian approached the strange machine while Brick inspected the office and Donovan sat down in front of one of the information terminals in the entrance.

The machine Damian was standing in front of reminded him of something. It reminded him of those images of airplanes he had seen in the Vault books.

"West Wing."

Damian turned around, torn from his thoughts by Donovan's voice. The mercenary was climbing the steps leading up to the balcony.

"Your thing, the Virgo II, it's in the West Wing of the museum."

He turned around and saw a Super Mutant coming out of a maintenance room upstairs. Donovan aimed his rifle but Brick's minigun started to whistle. The Super Mutant collapsed down the stair, its body torn apart. Donovan looked over his shoulder at Brick, who had a satisfied smile on her face.

They did not say anything and the small group climbed up and arrived at something that left them speechless.

One of the main exhibitions of the museum was dedicated to Vault-Tec and allowed to visit the inside of a Vault. The museum had recreated the cave that Vault were built in, and the heavy door and Damian was convinced that he was entering Vault 101. A nostalgic smile appeared on his face. He crossed the threshold of the heavy steel door and came across an exact replica of the entrance to Vault 101. A staircase led him down a long hallway with windows. Behind each window was a replica of famous rooms of the Vault. A cafeteria, a bedroom and a classroom. Damian stood in front of the windows, remembering the years he had spent sitting on those identical desks, looking at that same schoolboard and preparing for the G.O.A.T. His mind drifted to Amata, wondering what she could be doing right now and whether she had managed to appease her father's fury. He remembered the many hours of discussions they had had between classes or on their respective birthdays, his debut with Stanley and his apprenticeship to start a Pip-Boy again, and Stanley's secret passion for hacking computers.

His mind then drifted on his father. He remembered the time he had harassed his father to explain the difference between men and women biologically, and the difficulty James had in finding his words and explaining reproduction to a 16-year-old boy. He thought back to the last conversation they had in their apartments the day before James left. A tear ran down Damian's cheek as the memories surfaced, all while looking through the dirty glass of a Vault-Tec exhibit in a museum that had been abandoned for two centuries in the middle of a warzone.

Donovan gently cleared his throat and Damian pulled himself out of his thoughts. He apologized silently and his mind refocused on his mission. To find the dish of the Virgo II Lunar Lander and get out of there alive.

The Vault-Tec exhibit was in a U-shaped corridor and they all came out the other side of the balcony. As Damian walked through the fake gear door, he felt strange. He chased away the memories of his escape from the Vault and joined the Rangers in front of a double wooden door, marked as leading to the West Wing.

The West Wing entrance was a succession of small display cases. Most of them were broken and what they contained or displayed had been stolen a long time ago. Brick stood in front of a row of three displays where small metal bracelets with dials and buttons were placed. Damian approached. At first, he thought it was Pip-Boys but realized that these objects had nothing to do with his little computer.

"Hey Donovan, check this out, Stealth Boys," said Brick, taking one of the objects and throwing it to her friend.

Donovan caught the small object and put it in one of his saddlebags. Brick also took one of the Stealth Boys, leaving one for Damian. He noticed a small copper plate next to the displays and quickly read what was written. From what he had just read, the Stealth Boys allowed the user to become almost invisible by generating a modular field that reflected the light. Since physics and optics were not Damian's field of study or hobby, he abandoned the information plate and put the device in his bag.

Donovan and Brick were standing in front of a partially destroyed wall. Next to them, a staircase led to a planetarium. On the other side of the wall Damian recognized the Virgo II Lunar Lander and saw a small group of Super Mutants. Silently, the trio moved towards the planetarium. The door was blocked. Donovan tried to lockpicked it but gave up after several attempts.

They made their way to the other side of the room. They came across a large stairwell. In the middle, an empty space had been set aside for a rocket.

"Delta IX rocket," Donovan whispered with a wry smile.

"Before the Great War, they used it to go into space," Damian added, also looking at the huge device. "Then, it was decided to put nuclear warheads on it and launch them at the Chinese."

"We should drop one or two on the Super Mutants," Brick whistled, a bad smile on her face.

They walked down the stairs and arrived, after a long corridor, a few meters away from the Virgo II Lunar Lander. The small group of Super Mutants was still standing guard on the small balustrades above the room. The detonations of the minigun must have caught their attention, but for some unknown reason, they had stayed there, watching the area.

"How do you want to proceed?" Damian asked.

As an answer, he saw Donovan grabbing a grenade and throwing it at a couple of Super Mutants. The explosion shook the walls and raised a thick cloud of dust. Brick aimed the barrel of her minigun at the opening and fired. A shrill whistle sounded as the barrel spun and the bullets spurted out. A Super Mutant appeared from one of the stairs and found itself in the middle of the bullet storm. Damian aimed his gun and fired as well. He found himself feeling no emotion. Shooting and killing these abominations did nothing to him. He didn't know if he would feel the same way, the next time he would have to shoot at human beings and hoped that he would never have answer that question.

When the shooting was over, Damian approached the Lunar Lander. With Donovan's help, he unhooked the dish from the machine. The group turned back, after the two mercenaries had stripped the Super Mutant corpses of their ammunition.

The Washington Monument was much more imposing from up close. The journey between the museum and the obelisk was short, but they had to walk along the walls of the buildings and advance silently so as not to attract the attention of the Super Mutants that occupied the central space of the Mall. The two mercenaries and Damian hoped that no one at the outpost would have the great idea to mistake them for Super Mutants and shoot them. While walking, Damian realized that the space between the obelisk and the Capitol, building had been transformed into a No Man's Land, filled with trenches, wooden or steel piles and barbed wire. He wondered who could have fortified the place in this way and, above all, for what purpose.

When they arrived at the Washington Monument, the guards of the Brotherhood of Steel and their large grey armor greeted them with suspicion. Damian told them that Three Dogs had sent him to repair the Galaxy News broadcast relay. The guard motioned for them to wait. He walked away to a radio station. He spoke into the microphone for a few seconds, nodding his head and turning steadily towards Damian.

Donovan had begun a discussion with one of the guards he must have known personally, given the familiar tone they used, and Brick had set up her minigun against a sandbag wall and was looking at the area.

After a few minutes, the guard signaled Damian to approach and let him use the radio.

_"Hey, 101, do you have my baby's diaper?"_

"Uh... Three Dog?" Damian asked with a frown.

_"Last time I checked, that's what my name was, yeah! So, 101, you got the dish?"_

"Yes. How do I set it up?"

"_Easy, you climb to the top of the great obelisk, plug in the dish and turn on the switch, and if all goes well, good old Three Dog can once again spread the good word to the lost souls of the Wastes. When that's done, I'll contact you on this radio again, so stay tuned, haha!"_

The radio went silent. Damian carried the large dish with him inside the obelisk. An elevator was waiting for him and he went inside and pressed the only available button. The elevator shook and began its ascent. Two minutes later the doors opened.

The small space inside the obelisk was occupied by cables and electronic consoles and served as a sniper nest for the Brotherhood. From here, there was an unobstructed view of the entire city of D.C. and the Wasteland. Damian remained for a few seconds in awe of the view, even though the landscape was nothing but ruins and devastation. He approached a metal pole and guessing that this must be the place to plug in the antenna, he hung it up and connected the cables. He stepped back and operated a lever on the control console. The dish pivoted for a moment before stopping. Damian waited a few seconds and then went back down.

He went back to the radio and grabbed the microphone.

"Uh... Three Dog, that's it, I plugged the dish in."

Damian didn't get any response.

"Three Dog?"

He heard a man's voice mimicking a wolf's howl from a radio station a little further down the street.

"_People of the Capital Wasteland, you can hear me! YEEEEAAAAAAAAA! You can't stop the signal baby!"_

Then the radio started playing jazz music. Damian waited a few more seconds until Three Dog's voice came out from the radio at the outpost.

"_Great job, 101, now all the colonies in the Capital Wasteland will be able to hear GNR! By the way, while you were gone, I heard that you defused Megaton's bomb! Next time you are in the neighborhood, come to the studio. Old Three Dog's toaster is... toasted."_

"Three Dog, about my father, you..."

_"Don't worry, 101, Three Dog's going to tell you everything he knows about dear old dad of yours. Your father came to see me, and he didn't like what I told him about the situation in the Wasteland. I ain't hiding it from you, it ain't heaven on Earth. Anyway, your dad kept talking about some kind of "Project Purity" and some scientific mumbo-jumbo. He also said he was on his way to Rivet City to see someone called Doctor Li."_

Damian remembered that Simms had once mentioned a town with the same name southeast of the ruins of D.C.

"Thanks, Three Dog," Damian smiled, although the DJ couldn't see it.

"_Be careful out there, 101, keep helping others and they'll find a way to help you back. And above all, stay tuned to GNR!_

Damian cut the transmission. His father had left the Vault two days ago. He realized he might not be in Rivet City anymore. Three Dogs had said that James kept talking about something called _"Projet Purity"_. Damian tried to remember if his father had ever mentioned anything like that in the Vault.

_"Answers that lead to more and more questions,"_ Damian thought as he headed out of the outpost.

He found Donovan and Brick at the entrance and approached them.

"So, what are you going to do now?" asked Brick.

"I have to go to a place called Rivet City. Any info on how to get there from the Mall and what I'll find there?"

Donovan scratched his chin.

"Well, from here, it's Smithsonian station - Anacostia Crossing. When you get off the subway, you can't miss the city. A pre-war aircraft carrier turned fortress isn't a common sight these days. It's the largest city in the Wastes and it's pretty nice, I mean, if you don't care about the smell of rust that's always floating in the air and the fact that its inhabitants are arrogant assholes, all because they're well protected from the rest of the world on their floating wreckage. Otherwise, you can find everything you need, doctor, vendors, bar and even, believe it or not, non-irradiated food."

"Then all I have to do is get there," sighed Damian as he turned towards the metro exit in front of the museum. Thank you for your help.

Donovan and Brick exchanged glances.

"By the way, we heard Reilly wanted to give you a payment on top of the armor. Our HQ is in Seward Square. It's on the way to Rivet City, so if you want to pick up your payment and get some rest... I'm even sure Reilly won't mind if you hit the ammunition stores or take a few Stimpaks for the road."

Damian hesitated for a moment. He wanted to hurry and get to Rivet City before dark. Once again, he suspected that his father was probably no longer there, but chasing after him unprepared and without taking some time to rest would end up being fatal sooner or later. He nodded.

Damian, Donovan, and Brick returned to Underworld. Reilly was still at Butcher's bedside. She listened to Donovan's proposal and gladly agreed to let Damian have access to their headquarters. Ten minutes later, Donovan, Brick and Damian were on their way to Seward Square, Reilly having stayed with Butcher, both still too weak to move.

The metro exit was in a small square surrounded by small brick suburban houses. Damian followed the two mercenaries to an alley that led them into an inner courtyard with one of those statues of a man in a metal circle. On the way, Damian noticed the nearby Capitol building and a star-shaped square. Damian thought he saw Super Mutants there but didn't linger to check.

The Ranger HQ was in the basement of a collapsed building. A heavy steel door protected by a terminal and security system led to the basement. The place had been set up to make the basement look like a military base. There was a mess hall, a dormitory, a maintenance room, all with consoles and terminals.

Donovan unlocked a locker and signaled Damian to approach. Inside were many rifle magazines, strips of cartridges for Brick's minigun, grenades, mines. The mercenary motioned for Damian to take whatever he needed. While Damian grabbed about ten magazines for his assault rifle and pistol, Donovan prepared a small box of Stimpaks and bandages for him.

"There you go. With that you should be ready for whatever the Wasteland are going to throw at you," Donovan said with a smile.

Brick came back with a little brace. Damian raised his eyebrows. The device looked like a little box with ports for cables.

"Actually, for the payment, Reilly had a different idea than just a bag of caps," Donovan said a little embarrassed. "This thing's a mapping module. Basically, it plugs into a terminal or your Pip-Boy. Basically, your Pip-Boy is equipped with a map function, but you should know that by now, and every time you travel in the Wastes or the ruins of D.C., your Pip-Boy records the map data. As a payment, Reilly would like you to plug this module into your Pip-Boy and if you ever feel like wandering in the Wasteland, you should come back here to download the data from time to time. At 30 caps per square kilometer, that's easy money.

Damian thought for a few seconds before accepting. Donovan showed him how to plug the module into his Pip-Boy and how to turn it on, and he downloaded the map data Damian already had at the same time. Donovan gave Damian a small bag of caps and he put them in his bag.

"By the way, Reilly also said that this place will always be open to you and that you can always count on the Rangers to lend a hand."

Damian thanked them. Donovan offered to stay until the next day, but Damian politely declined. The two mercenaries insisted on accompanying him to the metro exit. Donovan explained to him that groups of Super Mutants and Centaurs, the abominations resembling a mixture of several human bodies that served as guard dogs, regularly passed through Seward Square and often camped in this star-shaped square near the metro.

Damian greeted the Rangers with a handshake and walked into the metro station. He crossed the station platform and came out the other side.

Damian was stunned. A huge warship was stranded right in front of him on a sandbank. The place did look like a fortress. From where he was, Damian could see walls of sandbags on the deck and the gangways. Damian approached, looking up at the aircraft carrier. Through some openings in the hull, Damian could see artificial light. He walked up to a large metal structure, which was to be the boarding deck.

All around, small groups of men and women waited by tents, loading crates of goods on the backs of two-headed cows, talking to each other, or walking up and down a metal walkway to the boarding deck. Above the footbridge, a large plaque had been attached and the name of the town had been cut out inside it

Damian made his way through the small crowd and climbed up to the boarding bridge. A long revolving catwalk connected the platform to the ship. In front of him Damian saw that the crowd was getting restless.

"Thief! Thief! Someone stops her!"

All faces turned to a man wearing grey, dirty, patched up clothes. He was pointing at a woman running towards Damian, jostling the passers-by.

"Freeze!" a voice shouted from the other side of the dock.

A few seconds later, Damian heard multiple hiccups of surprise and fear and saw all the people in front of him crouching or flattening on the ground. Next to the man calling for help, Damian saw three people wearing armor like his, black, raising their weapons to the woman who was fleeing. Damian stooped down with the others, unable to take his eyes off the woman running towards him.

"I said freeze!" shouted one of the men in armor.

The woman was about three feet away from Damian. He squatted even more when he heard a gunshot. He saw a wreath of blood spurt out of the woman and she fell to her knees before collapsing to the ground. Damian saw what looked like fruits rolling down the gangway at his feet.

The three people in black armor approached. Damian remembered what Reilly had told him about the Talon Company and their black combat armor. However, these three people did not wear any distinguishing marks that would indicate that they belonged to any mercenary group. They all wore helmets with plexiglass visors, like those worn by the security guards in Vault 101, with the exception of the middle one, a tall man, with short brown hair, clean-shaven, in his thirties. He lowered his rifle and sighed. He massaged his forehead and looked sadly at the young woman's corpse. His eyes slid to the food that had come out of her clothes.

"All this for some mutfruits," he said as he picked up what looked like a mutated apple.

He looked around him and saw that everyone had their eyes on him or on the corpse.

"Alright, people, the show is over. And if you ever get the urge to steal from the market or do anything stupid in Rivet City, that's what's going to happen."

He motioned to the two men accompanying him to attend to the body. Damian got up, and so did the others on the bridge. The man in armor moved away. Damian crossed the catwalk. At the entrance of the ship, Damian saw the man in black armor talking with the victim of the robbery. Next to them, a man and a woman also wearing the same type of armor made the people who wanted to enter the ship stop.

Damian waited. When his turn came, the man who had shot the thief signaled him to come closer.

"Alright, tell me what's your business in Rivet City?"

"I'm here to see a somone named Li. I was told he's a doctor here."

"Uh uh? And why do you want to talk to her?" asked the man in a suspicious tone.

"I'm looking for my father, and she should have information about him."

The man raised an eyebrow, visibly unconvinced. He looked at Damian from head to toe. Behind him, the young man thought he heard something falling into the water. He turned his head and saw the two men in black armor bent over the bridge and looking down below.

"Alright, you can come in. But don't be try anything stupid, or you'll regret it."

He motioned for Damian to enter and called the next person. Damian entered the ship through a hatchway. The room he found himself in had been converted into a market. As soon as he entered, Damian realized he didn't know where to find the Doctor Li, or what she looked like. He hesitated to go back and ask before he thought again, convinced the guard would throw him overboard if he bothered them too much.

The market consisted of two dozen tents, set up in what had once been one of the warship's hangars. Instead of airplanes or men and women in uniforms carrying crates of ammunition, there was of large crowd of people, looking at different objects on display, while merchants hailed visitors, presenting their latest arrivals.

Weapons, clothes, food, scrap metal, drugs, medicine. There was everything the wastelanders could dream about.

Damian approached the first stand he found. On shelves and mannequins, clothes were displayed. The kind of clothes that those who were walking through the ruins of D.C. would not wear. Damian was accosted by a Black man, wearing beige pants, an orange woolen sweater, sleeveless with checkered patterns on a white shirt.

"Welcome to Potomac Attire, sir. Let me introduce myself, Mr. Bannon, owner of this store."

He looked at Damian from head to toe and the smile on his face faded and he masked, with great difficulty, an expression of disgust.

"Excuse me, but the market is about to close, so if you could hurry."

"I'm looking for Doctor Li. I was told she was here. You know where I can find her?"

"And why is that?" Bannon asked suspiciously.

"Forget it."

The salesman frowned and clenched his jaw, obviously unaccustomed to being talked like that. Damian walked away. For moment he looked at the weapons on display at one of the arms dealers. The merchant was filling an entire crate with assault rifles, while a small group was watching his goods and counting their capsules.

Some stands were displaying an astronomical collection of all kinds of objects, scavenged in the nearby ruins. Spare parts, books, ammunition, food, scrap metal, objects of obscure utility or completely useless, such as telephones, empty and battered cans or ironing boards. Who could care about ironing its clothes in this world of desolation?

"Hey you! Yeah, you! Come here! I have the best junk from all D.C.!"

"Don't listen to that crook! You'll find the best products at the lowest prices at my place!"

"My friend, I know what you need! Just look! This is my last shipment!"

"Come on, today I'm making special offers! Don't waste time!"

All the vendors Damian looked at were hailing at him. Some wanted to sell him new armor, bullets, boots, others a hat, helmet, drugs. Some were proudly pointing at cartons of cigarettes from before the Great War. Next to them, crushed packages of home-made cigarettes, rolled in newspaper or in the pages of an old book.

At the other end of the hangar, Damian saw the man who had accused the young woman of theft. He appeared to be the owner of a restaurant. The man was standing in front of a couple sitting at a table. Damian approached the counter. The restaurant belonged to a man named Gary, judging by the name above the counter. A young woman, whom Damian guessed to be a little younger than him, approached the counter with a broad smile on her face. She had blond hair tied up, brown eyes and wore a set of grey clothes, patched with leather.

"Good evening, welcome to Gary's Galey. Can I get you something to eat or drink?"

Damian realized how hungry he was. He looked at the plates of the other customers. Seeing nothing that looked anything like a dog, squirrel or any other strange creature from the Wasteland and that the food looked normal for his standards as a vault dweller, he nodded his head with a small smile. Doctor Li had gained a few minutes respite from the multitude of questions Damian wanted to ask her.

The girl handed him the small piece of cardboard paper she was holding against her chest. Damian looked through the menu and decided on a steak and a beer. After all the emotions of the day, a piece of meat and some alcohol, even a simple beer, were well deserved. The girl returned a few minutes later. She put the dish down in front of Damian. The meat was strangely good, but Damian avoided asking where it came from, at the risk of not touching it or spitting it out. When his meal was finished, he began to drink his beer, trying to organize the questions he wanted to ask Li.

The young waitress approached him and cleared his plate. He heard her greeting someone and turned his head. A man, a little older than the waitress had just passed by. He had brown hair and wore an outfit like the girl. He returned her greeting with a shy smile and Damian noticed that his eyes were receding, and that he was blushing. Damian looked up at the girl and saw that she had stars in her eyes and that her face had lit up with a broad smile.

He smiled and let out a slight laugh. The girl turned to him, trying to hide her embarrassment behind an authoritarian look.

"Is there a problem, sir?"

"No, nothing. Forgive me. I... I saw the way you were looking at the guy who just walked by and..."

The young girl blushed, and she lowered her eyes, smiling, embarrassed.

"Diego is all devoted to Saint Monica's Church and Father Clifford. I doubt it will work between the two of us."

"Why do you think that?" Damian asked.

"You don't understand. The other guys on the ship are polite and nice to me, probably because of my father who probably scares them, but Diego, I feel like he's ignoring me. And I know how much his role at the Church means to him."

She let out a sigh. Damian's mind turned to Amata. Why was he thinking about her suddenly? Her face appeared to him, her smile, her hazel eyes, her long brown hair, hanging loose to her shoulders. Damian was taken from his thoughts when he noticed that the young waitress was looking at him strangely.

"Did you say something?" Damian asked, coming to his senses.

"Yes... Could... Could you talk to Diego for me?"

"Uh?"

Damian almost fell off his stool. The girl gave him a look of hope.

"I, uh..."

"Please! Ask him, in the course of a conversation or something. I need to know!"

Damian sighed.

_"When it's not the others asking me to solve their problem, I'm the one taking care of people's business. I'm really good at getting myself into trouble," _Damian thought, rubbing his nose to make himself look like he was thinking.

"Okay, but in return, I'll need your help."

The girl gave him a big smile and nodded frantically.

"The reason I'm in Rivet City is to find a Doctor Li. Do you know where I can see her?"

"Doctor Li? Of course, she spends most of her time cooped up in her lab. It's at the back of the ship, so just take the hatch there and go down to the lower deck before going straight ahead to her lab."

Damian was convinced that he was going to get lost in one of the ship's passageways despite the girl's information.

"About Diego... You're going to talk to him, aren't you?"

Damian looked at the girl, his eyes still full of hope.

"What's your name?"

"It's Angela."

Damian turned around. He saw Diego disappear into one of the passageways. He sighed, left some caps for the girl and went after Diego, taking his beer with him.

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**I have to be honest, I have absolutly no idea if a man like Butcher (or a human being in general) could survive a wound like this or be transported alive to a hospital. When I replayed this quest to write the chapter and arrived at the part where you fight the mutant in the hotel's reception, Butcher took a frag grenade to the face, survived and had 1 HP left and all his limbs crippled. The idea of making him wounded during the fight came from this.**

**Also, previous chapter was to be called "Broken Arrow". I had the idea after rewatching the movie "We were Soldiers" but since it's a term used to call air support so the friendly unit is not overrun, I thought it was not fitting for the setting, unless you consider that Damian is an Angel sent from the skies to save the Rangers.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed and untill next time.**


	9. Chapter 9: Revelations

**I did say that I would publish 2-3 chapter per week, but it looks like it's going to be per day. The whole story is written, I just need to translate and correct. Anyway, please enjoy this chapter.**

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Finding Diego had been easy. Damian had managed to catch up with him in a stairwell. Damian was right, the boy was crazy in love with Angela. Damian was about to convince him to go see her, when Diego refused and told him that he was devoted to the Church that had settled on the ship and to Father Clifford. Damian asked him about Father Clifford and what he might think of all this.

"Father Clifford is like a real father to me. I don't want to disappoint him."

"I'm sure he's looking out for you to be happy, but between you and me... Letting this chance with Angela go by, is a big mistake."

"I'm... I'm afraid I don't understand you," mumbled Diego.

"That girl is crazy in love with you! If you pass up this chance, someone else will take it and you'll blame yourself for the rest of your life, trust me! Whatever deity you worship, don't you think she'd want to see you happy?"

Damian started thinking about Amata again. He blinked and shook his head slightly to refocus on the discussion. Diego sighed.

"Saint Monica forgave her own son for enslaving her. I think Father Clifford can probably forgive me for giving up my faith for Angela, well... I hope so. Would you... Would you come with me when I go see Father Clifford?"

Damian nodded, thinking that at this point, he might as well go all the way. Diego took him to a small room on the ship that had been turned into a chapel, with an altar and benches. Father Clifford, an elderly man, was cleaning the small desk where he was to give his sermons. When he saw Diego enter, his face lit with a warm smile. Damian came in and sat down on one of the benches. A feeling of peace and calm enveloped him. He couldn't repress a slight smile and said to himself that he hadn't felt like this for a long time.

Father Clifford's voice took him from his thoughts.

"What? But Diego…"

The idea of Diego giving up his future as a priest to live his love with Angela did not seem to be to Father Clifford's liking. Damian pretended not to listen to the conversation. After a few minutes, Diego left the little chapel with a strange expression on his face. A mixture of happiness and sadness.

Damian watched him walk away, and the old priest approached him with a sad expression on his face.

"My Son, I hope that this discussion with my acolyte has not disturbed your prayers."

Damian shook his head, guessing that Father Clifford was more interested in being listened to than in hearing an answer.

"Did I overreact? Diego is a good boy and that he would turn away from his faith for a carnal relationship with a young girl like Angela saddens me, I had placed so much hope in this young man to succeed me when..."

He left the end of his sentence hanging and sighed before smiling sadly.

"I guess God and Saint Monica decided that Diego's path was different from the one I had prepared for him. At least I hope he won't dishonor himself and propose to her!"

Damian remained silent. Clifford shook his head to chase away his thoughts and turned to Damian again.

"Forgive me, but with all this, I didn't get a chance to introduce myself. I'm Father Clifford from Saint Monica's Church. I don't recall seeing you here before."

"No, it's the first time I come to Rivet City."

"If you stopped by here, it's because your soul is in pain."

"I'm just... I'm..."

Damian fell silent. He thought of his father, Jonas, the Vault, all the horrors he had gone through and done between the moment Amata had warned him of James' departure and the moment he had entered Rivet City.

"You do not seem to be a believer, my Son, but know that Saint Monica is ready to hear your prayers."

Damian remained silent for a moment. The Vault had no chapel or even a religion per se, although to Damian, the residents' unconditional devotion to the Overseer closely resembled a personality cult or some form of religion.

He looked at Father Clifford and took a deep breath.

"Actually... I'm looking for my father. He's missing, and I'm told he came to see a Doctor Li, here in Rivet City. I've been looking for him for two days, and I still have no idea why he left or why he didn't tell me. I don't even know if he's still alive."

Father Clifford put a comforting hand on Damian's shoulder.

"My Son, I hope you get the answers you're looking for. In the meantime, I will pray for you, and for your soul to find some peace in this brutal world."

Damian nodded and stood up. He walked to the hatch and turned around.

"Father, can you direct me to Doctor Li's lab?"

Several minutes later, Damian stopped in the middle of a passageway. He looked around and sighed with his eyes closed.

_"Was a map of the damn boat too much to ask for? "_ Damian thought as Father Clifford and Angela's instructions got mixed up in his head.

As he was walking down a corridor, he came across a large room in which several items were stored. A small balcony surrounded the room and allowed a view of the various objects on display on tables below. What left Damian perplexed was the life-size replica of a P-51 Mustang plane, suspended from the ceiling by chains. It wasn't so much the fact of finding a World War II plane in perfect condition that amazed him. The main question Damian was asking himself was, how did this plane get into the ship, and more importantly, how did it get through that little hatch?

While Damian was racking his brains about how this plane had got in here and if it had had to be rebuilt piece by piece, an old man with small glasses approached him and started the conversation.

"Good evening and welcome to the Capitol Preservation Society. My name is Abraham Washington, owner and curator of this museum."

"Abraham Washington? Your name is... quite Historical," Damian replied, stepping back a little.

"Oh... You are a connoisseur of our beautiful History! Have you come to admire the relics of our past?" the man continued, getting even closer.

"No, actually I..."

Abraham Washington cut it off and kept talking.

"Are you here for the job?"

"The job?" Damian asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes. I'm looking for adventurers and mercenaries who can brave the dangers of the Capital Wasteland and contribute to the History of America."

As he spoke, Washington grabbed Damian by the arm and carried him down the stairs and showed him a row of frames. Most were empty, but Damian could see that some of the frames contained documents relating to the History of the United-States, such as the United States' Declaration of War on Communist China just before the Great War.

"It's an interesting collection you have but..."

"You see, I'm currently looking for someone who can get his hands on the Declaration of Independence. The document that made the United States become the United States!" continued Washington without concern for Damian. "If you agree to bring me the Declaration which is in the National Archives, I am willing to..."

"Actually," Damian cut him off by raising his voice. "I'm not looking for a job. I'm looking for Doctor Li and I got lost looking for her lab."

Abraham froze and Damian thought he heard him whisper something but didn't understand. Washington walked to the exit of his museum and pointed Damian down the hall.

"Turn right and then the first hatch on your left."

Damian thanked him, but Washington had already gone back to make sure that the frames were straight and that no one had touched any of his relics.

Damian finally arrived in the laboratory. Large pipes ran all over the room and tanks occupied most of the room. The rest was furnished with tables stacked with papers, glass tubes and jars containing strange colored liquids. Damian stepped forward and from one corner of the room saw a short-brown-haired woman in a white blouse chatting with two men, one quite old, bald with small glasses and wearing a black suit that strongly denoted the dirty, old look of the Wasteland or the ship, and a younger man with a shaved head wearing a leather outfit with a red sweater. His face showed a bad expression and Damian noticed that his hand was resting on the handle of his laser pistol.

The three of them seemed to be having an argument, judging by the menacing hand movements of the man in the suit and the vain attempts of the woman to remain calm and polite. From where he was Damian could not hear the conversation, although he understood that the two men where not from D.C. and came from a place called _" The Commonwealth"_.

When the discussion was over, the two men left the laboratory, the younger one following the one in the suit like his shadow and casting aggressive glances at everyone he met. Damian approached the woman.

"Excuse me," Damian called out to her to get her attention.

"What now?" sighed the woman as she turned around.

She looked at Damian from head to toe and gave him a condescending look.

"I'm looking for Doctor Li, I was told I could find her here."

"And why is that? In case you haven't noticed, some of us here have work to do, and we'd like to not be interrupted anymore."

She sighed and pointed to another woman, looking over a microscope and turning her back to them before walking away without saying a word. Damian stepped forward and called out to the woman. She had greying black hair, brown eyes and was wearing a black skirt, a blue shirt and a white blouse. She turned around, barely looking at Damian.

"Look, this is a restricted area here and I'm tired of repeating it over and over again so..."

She fell silent and an expression of surprise appeared on her face, her slightly slanting eyes probing Damian from head to toe.

"It... It's you! Yes, no doubt," she said, lowering her voice. "You look so much like him."

Damian frowned, trying to understand.

"Do we know each other?" Damian asked, completely clueless.

The woman crossed her arms and a slight smile appeared on her face.

"I guess James never mentioned me. That doesn't surprise me. So typical of him. I'm Doctor Madison Li, and yes, I guess you could say I know you. I worked with your father and... Your mother. But... What are you doing here? James told me that you were supposed to be in the Vault."

"Have you seen my father? Is he here? You mentioned my mother, but... How did...?"

Damian opened his mouth several times, but nothing came out except incoherent words. Madison Li suggested Damian to take a seat. She leaned at the table corner and pursed her lips, visibly looking for answers to the questions that were burning Damian's lips.

"In Megaton... I was told I wasn't born in the Vault... Is it... Is it true?" Damian asked.

Madison Li seemed hesitant. She took a deep breath.

"About 20 years ago, your parents, me and a small team of scientists began the dream of a lifetime. "Project Purity". To make the polluted and irradiated waters of the Potomac pure and drinkable for all. An idea so simple and yet so complex to realize."

She straightened up and began to pace herself.

"We were this close to succeeding. We had assimilated the basics of the purification process, all our laboratory tests had positive and conclusive results, but every time we tried to launch the project on a larger scale, all our efforts were reduced to nothing. The radiation levels were far too high. In the meantime, the Brotherhood of Steel, which was protecting the lab, was beginning to lose patience because we were not making any progress in our research, and then we had to drop everything."

"Why did we have to drop everything? What happened?"

"You," said Doctor Li angrily.

Damian opened his mouth and stared at the blank, wanting to decipher what he had just heard. Madison Li sighed, and her face calmed down.

"I'm sorry. What I meant to say was that your birth precipitated things. You have to understand that at that time, your father only lived for two things, the success of Project Purity and your mother. When your mother, Catherine, was... When she was gone, James was devastated. He decided your safety was more important than Project Purity's success. So, he left, taking you with him. Soon after, the Brotherhood decided that we were not worth their time anymore and without them to protect us from Super Mutants and Raiders, we were forced to leave the lab ourselves."

Madison Li sat in a chair and sighed. Damian ran his hands over his face. He had butterflies in his stomach. His father had lied to him, about everything, about where he came from, that they were both born in the Vault. The story Moriarty had told him was true, he was born out there, in the Wasteland. But why did his dad lie to him all those years?

"So, you... You knew my mother?"

Doctor Li nodded her head.

"Yes, I knew her."

She looked sad and Damian guessed that it was painful for her talk about this.

"Your mother was... Well, she was a great scientist, like your father, and a great woman. I'm... I'm sorry you didn't get to know her. She... She was so eager to meet you... Her death has... Part of us left when she died, 20 years ago.

Damian wiped the tears from his eyes with the palm of his hand. They both remained silent, Damian still trying to assimilate the shock of these revelations. He looked up and took a deep breath and lifted his head.

"What about my father? He did come here, didn't he?"

"Yes," Doctor Li answered nodding her head.

She remained silent for moment before continuing.

"Your father did come to Rivet City for the sole purpose of reviving Project Purity. I tried to convince him that it was a waste of time, that it was impossible to resume a job that had been abandoned for twenty years. But as I suspected, he refused to listen to me and went to the old laboratory, inside old Jefferson Memorial. I'll try to dissuade you from going there too, but you must have inherited the same attitude as your father," sighed Li. "The lab is located not far from here, to the West, near the Potomac River."

"Thank you, Doctor Li," Damian answered.

He walked up the stairs and left the laboratory. Damian found his way back through the maze of passageways and finally reached the entrance of the ship. There, two men in black armor and helmets with visors stood in his way.

"Sorry, sir, but there are no exits during the night."

"What do you mean? You must let me through!"

"No. Exit. During. The. Night."

Damian saw that one of the guards had just put his hand on his submachine gun and that the other was slowly spinning his baton in his hand. He thought about the fate of the young woman he had met when he arrived in Rivet City and he moved backwards, raising his hands. The two guards calmed down.

"Orders, sir. The bridge will be lowered again tomorrow morning at 0600. In the meantime, you may stay overnight on the ship. You'll find a hotel on the upper deck. Also note that the market is closed at night."

Damian turned back. He climbed up several stairs and arrived in front of an open hatch. In the old days, this room must have been the office of one of the ship's officers. Now it was used as a reception area for a hotel. An arched desk with a terminal, a fan, some bundles of papers, a lamp and a cash register were placed on top. Behind the terminal, sitting on a chair, a woman in her thirties, dressed in a blue dress and with short blond hair was reading a book.

Damian approached and saw a small plaque on the desk with the word _"Reception"_ next to a doorbell. When she heard Damian approaching, the woman looked up at the book. She smiled and placed the book on her desk before getting up.

"Good evening, sir. Welcome to the Weatherly Hotel. Would you like to rent a room?"

"Yes, please," Damian replied, still reeling from the revelations and struggling to mask his frustration of being stuck on the ship until the next morning.

The receptionist noticed Damian's look and gave him a compassionate smile.

"You got stuck here for the night? Don't worry, it happens to more people than you think. It's odd that Chief Harkness didn't tell you about it."

Damian raised an eyebrow.

"Harkness is the head of security for Rivet City. You probably ran into him. He likes to come to the boarding deck to ask questions to people who want to get in. Don't pay attention to his gruff look, he's a really nice man when you get to know him."

The young woman sat down again and typed on the keyboard of his terminal. She bent down to grab something from under her desk, giving Damian a bird's eye view of her cleavage. Damian looked away before the young woman got up with a key in her hand.

"You're lucky, I still have one room free. How long do you plan to stay?"

"Just tonight," Damian replied immediately, taking some caps off his bag.

The woman put the caps in a drawer in her desk and locked it.

"Buckingham, can you watch the desk for me?" said the young woman as she walked around the desk.

In response, Damian saw a Mister Handy robot coming out of another room in the back and standing behind the desk.

"If you'd please follow me."

She led him into the corridor and stopped in front of a door a little further on. She opened the door and let Damian in. The room had a double bed, a table with a desk lamp, a chest of drawers and a small wardrobe.

"If you need anything, Buckingham provides overnight service, and if you want something to eat, don't hesitate to ask me," the young woman said, handing Damian the key.

He thanked her with a nod and watched her walk away before entering the small room and locking the door behind him. He put his bag next to the bed and sat down on the edge. He looked up at the ceiling before dropping onto the mattress. He raised his Pip-Boy and looked at the time. 9:30 pm. He rested his arm and sighed. Waiting. If there was one thing he hated, it was waiting, with nothing to do but be locked in a room.

Damian rolled to the side and grabbed his bag. He rummaged through it until he found food. While searching, he came across the picture of him and Amata. He folded it in half and put it in the chest of his armor. Staring at the blank, he wondered how she was, what she could do and especially if her father hadn't gotten on her nerves. The mere thought that he could have ordered his men to beat her made Damian angry.

To take his mind off it, he turned on his Pip-Boy's radio. Three Dog's voice sizzled through the speakers, followed by a jazz tune. Damian turned down the sound of the Pip-Boy's radio and took off his armor. He put his pistol on the bedside table and lay down on the bed, facing the door. He thought about everything Doctor Li had told him.

Project Purity, his father's life's work. He had given up everything and decided to cross the Wasteland to bring his newborn son to safety in a Vault. Damian wondered why he hadn't gone to Rivet City like the others. If his father had taken him to Rivet City, then he probably would never have run away and left him alone. On the other hand, Damian would never have known Amata.

Rivet City seemed to be a safe city, but he understood his father's choice of a Vault. This, however, didn't explain the twenty years of lies. Whenever he had tried to ask James about his mother, Damian had always been offered the same short and evasive answer. She had died giving birth to him, victim of a heart attack. With all these new revelations, Damian wondered if it was true, that his mother had indeed died that way and hadn't been one of the victims of a group of Raiders or Super Mutants. He wondered if his father had at least told him the truth once in his life.

The music on the radio stopped and a new, softer one began. Damian struggled for a few moments before falling asleep.

Damian quickly opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor, soaked in sweat. He blinked several times and looked around in panic. He was in the room he'd rented in Rivet City. His heart threatened to explode and shoot out of his chest. The images of his nightmare were slowly disappearing before his eyes. He couldn't remember what he had dreamed of. All he was sure of, was that the horrors he had seen in the last few days would haunt him for a very long time.

He got up, nauseous, and emptied one of the water bottles he had in his belongings. He threw the empty bottle into his bag and looked at his Pip-Boy, which said 8:45 am. The radio was still on, and Three Dog had embarked on a fiery monologue about the role of the Brotherhood of Steel in the Capital Wasteland.

Damian must have fallen asleep, lulled by the music. He turned off the radio and walked over to his armor, which was laid out on the table, to put it on. He adjusted the straps on the breastplate before checking that his rifle and pistol were loaded.

Damian left the room and after a quick meal in the hotel lobby, headed to the boarding dock. On the way, he passed Angela and Diego, hugging each other. He smiled as he saw that a draught would not pass between the two lovers.

The hatch leading to the footbridge and the pontoon was wide open and small groups of visitors and merchants were beginning to enter the city. On leaving the ship, Damian overheard a conversation between two men, talking about a group of Super Mutants who had taken over the ruins of the Jefferson Memorial and harassing the merchant caravans and travelers who were getting too close.

Damian's heart tightened. He tried not to think about the fact that his father might have met these creatures or that he might be trapped inside the lab with them. He put those thoughts out of his mind and walked towards the lab.

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**Hope you enjoyed. Until next time.**


	10. Chapter 10: Remnants of the past

**Enjoy this new chapter.**

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The Jefferson Memorial was a few minute walk from Rivet City. It was a large rotunda surrounded by columns. The building was located on a small island and was surrounded by large walkways, scaffolding and large pipes were coming out of the facade and plunging into a basin, located between the island and the ruins of D.C..

Damian approached and climbed on the first scaffolding. Two Super Mutants were watching the ruins on the other side of the Potomac. Next to them, one of the Centaurs slid silently across the bridge. Damian aimed his rifle. He fired, but missed his target. The two Super Mutants began to look around, looking for where the shot came from. They didn't have time to find it. Damian got a little closer and took out the Centaur.

The facade from which the pipes came out was inaccessible. Damian continued walking on the footbridge that encircled the monument. The only way to reach the building was through the old souvenir shop. Damian pushed open the door and entered a long dark corridor. A Super Mutant walked through the corridor and Damian leaned against the wall. He disappeared into an adjacent room. Damian approached silently. He walked along the wall and when he reached the corner, he glanced into the room where the Super Mutant had entered. The room was fortified by two walls of sandbags. The Super Mutant had joined two others and had started an almost incomprehensible discussion.

Damian took a deep breath and burst out of his cover, aiming his rifle at the mutants and pulling the trigger. Two of the mutants collapsed and the third plunged behind the sandbag fortifications. He rose to his feet and shot back at Damian. Damian leaned against the wall and reloaded his weapon. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the barrel of the Super Mutant's weapon appear. He bent down just in time to avoid the bullet that whistled over his head.

The Super Mutant put a new round into his rifle, but the breech jammed. He turned his gun around and used it as a club. Damian raised his gun and fired. The Super Mutant was shot in the stomach and collapsed into a growl.

Damian ran his hand across his face, wiping away the sweat that was beginning to bead up. He entered the gift shop. All trace of the memorial's pre-war activity was gone. Glass tubes, paper, chemistry utensils and notebooks had replaced the souvenirs, books and gifts that had once piled up on the shelves. Damian went around the room. Most of the walls were covered with terminals, consoles, computers or blackboards, still containing diagrams, chemical formulas or calculations.

No sign of James. Reading the panels on the walls, Damian found that there were two more sections of the museum to explore, the rotunda and a basement. Damian opened one of the doors of the rotunda. He had barely touched the handle when the door opened on the fly, throwing him backwards. Two Super Mutants entered the shop. Damian dove behind one of the consoles. His rifle stood between him and the two Mutants. He drew his pistol. He raised his arm and fired over his cover. He hit one of the mutants in the head. The second mutant approached Damian. Armed with a sledgehammer, he kicked the console out of the way. Damian had no time to aim, so he blind fired. Luckily, his bullet hit the monster in the arm, throwing the mutant off balance and dampening the mutant's strike.

The mace struck Damian on his armor chest piece. He was thrown backwards against a shelf. He opened his eyes and saw the mutant above him, lifting his sledgehammer. Damian rolled to the side. He heard the sledgehammer hit the tile floor. Damian plunged down on his assault rifle and in the same gesture, turned and fired. The Super Mutant collapsed in a guttural roar.

Damian grimaced and placed his hand between his chest and the breast plate of his armor. He grunted and massaged his aching torso. Luckily, nothing was broken, only the khaki paint layer on the chest protector was damaged. He straightened up and entered the rotunda.

The place had been turned into a control room. A large airlock filled with control consoles and terminals had been built over a water retention basin. The airlock was built around a statue of Thomas Jefferson, one of America's founding fathers. The statue was in a tank filled with water, probably pumped from the Potomac or nearby pond.

Looking at this historical figure through the dirty glass, Damian wondered what Jefferson would say or think if he saw that the country he had helped to forge was now nothing more than a devasted set of ruins populated by a few humans struggling to survive against deformed and mutated abominations, that even a madman wouldn't be able to imagine in his worst nightmares.

Small transparent pipes inside which water slowly flowed surrounded the place. Damian found a pair of holotapes on one of the consoles. A small label had been stuck on each of them. Damian recognized his father's handwriting on it. He was about to listen to them when a noise from the shop caught his attention. He left the airlock, with his rifle, ready to fire.

A Centaur was crawling slowly among the corpses of the Super Mutants. Damian eliminated the creature. Shouts of guttural voices and footsteps echoed from the door leading to the basement. Damian reloaded his weapon and waited. He could feel its blood beating in his temples and his heart quickening as the Super Mutant's heavy footsteps drew closer. When he saw the barrel of a rifle and the Super Mutant's big hands holding it, he opened fire.

The shooting lasted only a few seconds. The small group of mutants had rushed through the door to fight Damian and the monsters had gotten in the way of each other, becoming easy targets.

Damian approached cautiously and, noticing that this group was no longer a threat, he went down into the basement of the memorial, with his rifle pointed in front of him in case other mutants were waiting for him down there.

The tunnels had been set up by Project Purity's science team as a dormitory and living quarters. Bunk beds, lockers, canteens, some personal belongings. Everything was piled up in this room and had been turned upside down, probably by the mutants. Damian walked through the tunnels, checking that no other mutants were hiding in the lab.

His father wasn't there. The lab was empty. The only sign of him being here were the holotapes Damian had found, that could also have been left here 20 years ago. The tapes were all labeled Project Purity, except for one called _"Better Days"_.

Intrigued, Damian inserted the tape into his Pip-Boy and a woman's voice came through the speakers.

"_That batch of tests was inconclusive, but Madison and I are convinced it's a problem with the secondary filtration system. We're going to re-calibrate the equipment and try again tomorrow, so that... James, please, I'm trying to work. Now's not the time..."_

"_So that's the next step. Assuming we get the results we need, we'll move on to... James! Stop! I need to finish these notes... We'll move on to diagnosing the issues with the radiation dampeners."_

Damian paused the holotape after the woman and his father started to laugh.. This woman was not Doctor Li, since she had just been explicitly mentioned by the woman in the tape. Also, it wasn't her voice speaking. The woman had just mentioned the name of Damian's father and he was sure he heard his voice in the background. Damian played the tape again.

"_So that's the next step. Assuming we get the results we need, we'll move on to..."_

The woman talked to James again, in a more playful tone, before continuing to present her hypotheses until Damian heard her and a man laughing. The tape stopped. It could only be one person. Catherine, his mother.

Damian took the tape off his Pip-Boy and looked at the date on the label. October 2257, nine months before his birth.

He sat down on a chair and sorted out the different tapes. Some of them, the oldest ones judging by their condition and the label, seemed to be about Project Purity while James, Catherine and Doctor Li were working on it. The others, which Damian thought were the most recent, probably recorded when his father returned to the lab after Rivet City, were all labeled as _"Personal Entry"_ followed by a number.

Damian inserted the oldest and listened.

"_I am at a loss. My beloved wife is gone. In her place is my son, small and helpless."  
_Damian recognized his father's voice, which seemed to be on the verge of tears and had difficulty speaking. Hearing his father, so lost and sad, made Damian feel like a sledgehammer was swung at his face. He, who had always been confident, smiling, seemed so... Helpless.

"_As much as this place means to me... As much as it meant to Catherine, this is no place for an infant. Especially an infant without his mother."_

Damian continued to listen to the tapes, most of them talking about the inconclusive results of Project Purity, or the consequences of some mutant attacks, or the stormy unfriendly relationship between Doctor Li and the Brotherhood of Steel.

He placed one of the most recent tape in his Pip-Boy.

"_Well, here we are again. Project Purity and me. It's been close to twenty years since my last entry. Since I left all of this behind to make a life for my son. We've spent that time in Vault 101, tucked away from the rest of the world. It wasn't perfect, but it was safe, and that's all I could have hoped for. Now, my son is a grown man. Handsome, intelligent, confident. Just like his old man. Hmph. And as hard as it was to admit it, he doesn't need his daddy anymore."_

The holotape ended. Damian remained silent, staring at the blank. He was now certain of it. He was born here, in this laboratory. Born of two scientists who were also born in the Wasteland. He also had proof that all his life, that the last 19 years had been a lie. His father had never told him about the outside world or Project Purity. He had never mentioned that Damian was born here and that he had decided to leave everything behind, his life's work, to raise his son and give him a safe life in a Vault-Tec facility, a Vault that was supposed to be sealed for two centuries.

As he listened to his father's holotape, Damian had been walking the corridors, trying to imagine his parents' life in the dark, damp, cold basement of an old world monument, forgotten by all.

The tape had been over for a few minutes and Damian still hadn't moved. He was standing in front of a small room in the basement. In the center of this room was a hospital bed, medical lamps, a cart with various medical utensils and a monitor connected to electrodes. In a corner, Damian noticed a metal basin with white linen inside, stained with blood and yellowish liquid. He remembered very well his father's or Mr. Brotch's lectures on human biology, especially the one on reproduction. He did not know if the amniotic liquid in which the fetus was bathed for 9 months could leave traces like these after 20 years, but to him, this room looked very much like a delivery room.

He stared the room for a moment. It was there that he had come into this world and that a few minutes later, his mother had left it. Everything seemed to have been left as it was, frozen in time. A strange feeling came over him, something he couldn't describe. Damian leaned and sat against a wall. There, he closed his eyes and cried. 19 years later, the truth finally came out. All his questions had finally been answered, except for two. The first, which he intended to ask James when he found him, was why they hadn't been able to save his mother, and the second; where was James now? Damian had searched the entire Jefferson Memorial lab and basement from top to bottom. His only lead was in the tapes he hadn't heard yet.

Several minutes later, he stood up, ran his hands over his face and left the room. He inserted a new tape into his Pip-Boy. In his father's diaries, Damian noted several interesting things. Aside from the fact that James had spent much of his free time in the Vault finding a way to restart Project Purity, as he made clear, Damian learned that he had found information in the Overseer's terminal.

One name came up regularly, a man Stanislaus Braun, a scientist who had worked for Vault-Tec and who, according to what James had discovered, was at the root of the Social Preservation Program. Project Safehouse, the root for all Vault-Tec's fallout shelters before the Great War. The thing that had caught James' attention was the involvement of this Stanislaus Braun on something called the G.E.C. K. The Garden of Eden Creation Kit.

Damian continued to listen to the tapes, convinced that his father's interest in this pre-war scientist and this G.E.C.K. would lead to him.

_"The G.E.C.K. was nothing short of a miracle. A terra-forming module, capable of producing life from complete lifelessness."_

James' enthusiastic voice escaped from Damian's Pip-Boy. He continued to listen to the tape in silence. The G.E.C.K. had been provided in several Vault before the Great War, but Vault 101 was not one of them. James set out to get his hands on one of these G.E.C.K.'s, convinced that this technological marvel was the key to the success of Project Purity.

"_I did some digging and discovered Braun's name on the reservation list for a Vault. Vault 112."_

Vault 112, that's probably where his father went. This Braun had been dead a long time, but if Damian was right, then a scientist like him would never really have given up his work. Furthermore, if Vault 112 had a G.E.C.K., James had certainly gone there to retrieve the miraculous device.

Damian listened to the end of the recording, but his father was only praising the merits of this Stanislaus Braun. He inserted the last tape, praying that his father had mentioned something inside about the location of the Vault.

"_I'm off to Vault 112 to search for anything of Braun's that might help me get this purifier up and running. All I know is that it's West of some place called "Evergreen Mills," and it's well hidden in some sort of garage. But I'll find it, I have to. It's so close, but that's the story of Project Purity, isn't it? An eternity of "almost there's". Let's see if Braun has the missing puzzle piece."_

The holotape was barely finished when Damian rushed outside the Jefferson Memorial. He looked west with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. The glimmer disappeared when he remembered that he had no idea where Evergreen Mills was. Damian decided to go back to Megaton and ask Simms or Moira if either of them knew where the place was. He crossed the bridge between the island where the Jefferson Memorial was located and the rest of the mainland and headed for Megaton.

The plane wings lifted, and Damian entered the city. The trip from the Jefferson Memorial had been smooth, Damian just had to make a small detour to the Potomac riverbank to avoid a skirmish between Super Mutants and Brotherhood soldiers. From the town gate, he scanned the crater, looking for Simms' distinctive hat and duster.

He didn't see him and headed for the Sheriff's house. Arriving in front of the shed, he banged on the door. He waited a few moments when he heard the lock squeak and the door open on a young boy of about ten years old, Black, short brown hair, wearing torn jeans, large boots and an oversized blue raincoat.

Expecting to see Simms and not a kid, Damian was a little surprised before he came back to his senses.

"Hi, uh… Is Sheriff Simms here?" Damian asked in an urgent tone.

"Hey! You're the one who disarmed the bomb!"

"Who is it, Harden?"

Simms' voice came from inside the house. The young boy turned to answer it.

"It's the man from the Vault, Dad. I think he wants to see you."

Damian heard Simms ask his son to let him in. Simms' cabin was built exactly like Damian's. The young man entered and looked around. Posters and books about the Wild West conquest or the pre-war Western movies covered the walls or piled up on shelves.

Lucas Simms came out of the kitchen. He wasn't wearing his duster, but he still wore his hat. He gave Damian a broad smile of welcome and wiped his hands on a tea towel he was carrying on his shoulder.

"Hey kid, you need anything? Haven't seen you around in a while. We…"

"Sheriff, what can you tell me about a place called Evergreen Mills?"

Damian used a blunt tone that didn't seem to be to Simms' liking. He frowned, and without taking his eyes off Damian, addressed his son.

"Harden, go play outside. I think Maggie would like to have a little chat with you."

The young boy was about to protest but the look in his father's eyes made him obey. He left the house and closed the door behind him.

"Why do you want to go there?" Simms asked, pulling out a chair to sit down.

"That's not where I want to go, well, not exactly," Damian replied, sitting in the chair Simms pointed out to him. "I know my father went to a Vault located West Evergreen Mills. I don't know if he's still there, but I won't know unless I go there. I don't care what's at Evergreen Mills. All I want is to know where it is so I can find my way there and look for my dad."

Simms' face softened slightly. He stood up and rummaged through a shelf. He came back and placed a map of the Capital Wasteland on the table. It was an old map, the kind you might find in geography textbooks or schools before the Great War, but it had been annotated by Simms or the person who had owned it before him. The location of Megaton was indicated by a small star and the location of Rivet City was also indicated by a small star. The entire city of D.C. was blank with no annotation, as if no one had been foolish enough to go to the ruins except the Brotherhood, Three Dogs, mercenary groups and Damian.

Simms pointed at the star indicating Megaton and slid his finger in a straight line westward. A small skull had been drawn near the spot Simms pointed to.

"This is Evergreen Mills, and I strongly advise you no going near it. According to reports from the caravans that passed through here a few days ago, the Raiders have set up a camp there, a very large one. They trade with the caravans, although they prefer to deal with the slave traders from the North, but with these guys you never know what to expect."

"How long does it take to get there from Megaton?"

"I don't know. As the Sheriff, it's my job to know what's going on in and around Megaton, like that group of Raiders in the school in Springvale and you can always count on the GNR radio that a Good Samaritan fixed to keep you informed about what's going on outside those walls.

Damian stared at the map, pensively. Simms sighed and walked away to put down the towel he still had on his shoulder.

"If your father went in that direction, there's a good chance he'd been caught by the Raiders, unless, he heard what he might find as he approached the place and chose to go around it."

"So, what do you advise me, Sheriff?" Damian asked.

Simms went back to the map. He pointed to Megaton and slid his finger South before turning West. Damian noticed that his route was an old highway.

"You have two possibilities. The first is to wait for a caravan to come into town and leave for Evergreen Mills. You go on the road with them and you have a chance of not getting shot on sight when you get to the camp. Or you head south to the ruins of Fairfax, here, and then, follow the ruined highway to a place called Girdershade, there. After that, it's up to you to find out where your father went.

Simms signaled Damian to hand him his Pip-Boy. The young man hesitated for moment before realizing that he was going to show him the locations of all these places on the map of his Pip-Boy.

"I won't to lie to you, the road will be dangerous. Either way. If you travel with a caravan, the wild beasts will leave you alone, at least the smaller ones. If you choose to follow the road until what's left of Fairfax and towards Girdershade, it will be longer, but you'll avoid the Evergreen Mill Raider camp and probably a lot of other stuff. Be careful if you go that way. I hear there's a Brotherhood of Steel group hanging around there but they're not the kind to get chummy with the others.

Damian sighed. He looked at the location of Evergreen Mills on his Pip-Boy.

"I've no time to waste, Sheriff. If my father's there, I need to get there as soon as possible."

Simms nodded. Damian walked to the door and thanked the Sheriff for his help.

"Be careful out there. There are things way more dangerous than the Raiders, feral ghouls or Super Mutants that live in this fucking desert."

Damian left Simms' cabin and headed for the door. He looked up to the sky. Big dark clouds were starting to appear. Damian walked through the door and down to the road that ran through Springvale and up to the West. He walked past the rocky headland and the cave where Vault 101 was located. Looking at his map, he saw that the highway leading down to Fairfax passed just below the Vault. He stopped for moment and looked at the entrance to the cave. Even though he had not been born inside, and the Vault was far from being the dream place, it was his home. He sighed before going on his way.

Damian had been walking for several minutes and was following a small road westward. He came in sight of a small pre-war town. A few houses in ruins, some still standing, a dinner and that strange red rocket-shaped sculpture. As he approached, Damian noticed that it was a gas station, named _"Red Rocket"_, which explained the strange sculpture. The gas station was among the ones that supplied pre-war vehicles with gasoline and then uranium. Behind the gas station and its absolutely exhilarating price sign, Damian saw a parking lot and a metro exit called _"Jury Street"._ A suburban station for model citizens of the pre-apocalypse world. Some of the corpses Damian came across in the ruins may have been living here before their bones were laid to rest forever in the tunnels of a metro station in downtown D.C.

Damian walked through the small town when a rumbling sounded in the sky, startled him. He raised his head and looked up at the sky. In the distance, above the ruins of D.C., lightning zapped the sky, then a few seconds later thunder. Rain began to fall, Damian sighed, angry that he had to continue his journey in the rain. His Geiger counter sizzled. The pointer began to panic as the rain fell. Damian swore internally and ran to the first store he could find. He pushed the door open and closed it behind him.

Damian turned around. The store consisted of a single room, an entrance separated from the rest by an L-shaped counter and a grate. In front of the entrance, sitting on wooden or metal crates, two men and a woman stood around a pan on an electric hot plate, connected to a fission battery.

For several seconds, Damian and the three people looked at each other, without moving or talking. Rifles or pistols were either on their belts or next to them. Damian saw one of the men slide his hand towards his pistol. Damian raised his rifle and pulled the trigger. The man collapsed backwards, his chest and head riddled with impacts. The second man stood up and was shot in the stomach. He collapsed, knocking over the pot and pouring a fragrant mush on the ground.

The woman dove to the side, grabbing the shotgun she had at her feet. She took cover behind the counter and pointed her gun at Damian. The young man in turn ducked in cover and heard, amidst the man's screams and the hysterical cries and insults of the woman, a succession of shots.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Damian covered his ears. The woman continued screaming and shooting. He didn't know what weapon the woman was using but judging by the big red casings that fell over him and which he received from time to time on his head, it was better not to get hit or there wouldn't be much left of him.

Dust was falling from the ceiling, and the counter as the blasts rattled the room. The woman stopped shooting. She moved back and pointed her gun at the counter and fired.

Damian felt the counter shaking in his back and saw at his feet that a huge hole had just formed. He crawled to the corner of the counter. The woman laughed hysterically and fired again. A second hole formed where Damian had been a few seconds before. He continued crawling backwards when he felt splinters and pieces of wood and plaster on his head. He turned around and saw another hole in the wall.

Damian looked around him. He rolled on the ground and with his legs he propelled himself to a washing machine in the hallway. A second later, a hole formed where he was a few second earlier. Through the opening and the grate, Damian saw the woman approaching and raising her rifle. He fired in her direction and hit her in the legs. She fell to the ground screaming until another round put an end to her suffering.

Damian slowly caught his breath. The man's screams of pain had turned into tears. Damian stood up, pointing his gun at the inside of the magazine. There was no one left but him and the wounded man. Damian glanced at him briefly, lying on his stomach in a pool of blood and surrounded by the contents of the pan that could barely mask the smell of gunpowder and blood. He did not have long to live.

Damian ran his hand through his hair and over his face. He leaned against the washing machine and let the adrenaline flow back down. He felt nothing but the relief of being alive and not bleeding to death on the floor of that store. He remembered that one day someone in the Vault, he didn't know who exactly, told him that you get used to everything. Damian had only been outside the Vault for two or three days and the horrors and the omnipresent death of this world already seemed so familiar to him and had become imbued in him. He tried not to think about it, although the fact that he had been born into this world and not into the Vault must have had something to do with it. The offspring of two worlds, so to speak, born from a world of violence and death and raised in a safe and healthy environment.

Damian stayed in the store, waiting for the rain to stop. Every once in a while, he would look at the three dead bodies and the rest of the shop, or he would approach the door, open it to see if the rain was still falling and if the radiation was still there. He was surprised to see that the rain was radioactive. When he felt the first rainfall on his face in Vernon Square, he didn't hear the Geiger counter on his Pip-Boy go crazy or even activate. On the other hand, he had been so fascinated by seeing rain and then so focused on his environment and the presence of Super Mutants to pay attention to the rattling of his Pip-Boy. The reassuring thing was that he had not felt any stomach or headache or felt sick afterwards, a sign that the water was, probably, not radioactive.

The rain lasted for several hours. When the weather began to calm down, Damian left the store and continued westward along the road. He came across one of those flying robots. This time it wasn't music but a voice coming out of it. At first Damian thought it must have been a machine used by Three Dog so that everyone in the Wasteland could hear Galaxy News, until Damian realized that the voice wasn't that of the GNR DJ and that it had a much more solemn tone.

_"Hello dearest America. I am your President, John Henry Eden. President of the Enclave. President of America. President... of your hearts. Now America, dear America, I'd like to talk about one of our favorite topics. I want to talk about our great national pastime, baseball."_

Damian stood still listening to the voice coming out of the little robot, talking about baseball, about the different teams in the pre-war states. He shrugged his shoulders and walked away when he heard the voice of this _"President Eden"_, changing the subject and embarking on a fiery monologue about the situation in the Wastes and how the Enclave, whatever it was or meant to be, was going to make sure that the situation would change. Damian was convinced that what he was hearing was nothing more than a pre-war program that was repeating itself over and over again, but now that he thought about it, he had no recollection of seeing, reading or hearing John Henry Eden's name in the list of US Presidents before the Great War. And how could a recording from a time when nuclear devastation hadn't yet taken place know in detail what was happening in the Capital Wasteland, know about the Brotherhood of Steel, the Raider gangs, Underworld or the Super Mutants?

And if this man who spoke was President, then he must have had a government with him, and if that was the case, that government was not formed overnight and had to be somewhere. So why was there no visible trace of that government, of that Enclave that the voice on the radio was talking about? Damian decided to leave this new mystery aside and went on his way.

A few minutes later he arrived in sight of a rocky pass in which a railway line with several red freight cars piled up. The entrance was reinforced with sandbags and metal walkways had been installed to move from one side to the other.

In front of the wagons, Damian saw several of these two-headed cows, carrying crates and buckets on their backs, accompanied by men and women, more or less armed. They watched as Damian approached.

One of them, a man wearing leather clothes and a cap with motorcycle glasses on it, approached him and greeted him with a broad smile before addressing him.

"The spirits told me you'd be coming, and that you are looking to buy."

Damian didn't answer, just looking at the man with his eyes wide open and looking for an answer. The man's smile faded as his eyes fell on Damian's breastplate and the Ranger badge.

"You shouldn't wear that here. If the Raiders see you with that, they'll kill you."

"Uh, no... I..."

Damian didn't have time to finish his sentence as voices rang out in the rocky pass. The man grabbed a piece of cloth and wrapped it around Damian's shoulders. The poncho covered his chest and part of his legs. Damian made a few folds in the garment to free his arms and grab his rifle when a voice whispered in his ear.

"Listen kid, if you don't want us all to get shot, keep your gun holstered and don't show them that armor, let alone your Pip-Boy.

The man who had just spoken stepped back at the same time a small group of men and women appeared between the cars. Twice as many as the members of the caravan and Damian, they were all armed with rifles and machine guns and wore somewhat extravagant leather and metal outfits. Some had pieces of tires for protection on their shoulders, and Damian noticed that some of the women masked their chests with pans or sieves, attached to straps and running around their bodies.

One of the men stepped forward, wearing a large, green-colored spiked hair. The man in the cap who had spoken to Damian stepped forward as well.

"The spirits protected me again in my journeys to allow me to come and trade with you."

"Cut out the primitive tribal bullshit and show me what you brought!' barked the man with the green hair.

The merchant bowed slightly and signaled one of his men to come with several wooden crates. Damian stood back, watching the negotiation. The merchant, who spoke only in phrases that always referred to spirits or higher beings, seemed to have specialized in selling clothing and armor. One of the guards of the caravan approached Damian and began to chat with him in a low voice.

"Are you the kid from Vault 101?"

"Yes," Damian replied after a hesitation.

"I recognized you from the Pip-Boy and the armor. I heard you joined Reilly's Rangers after you saved their asses. Thank you for that, by the way, the Rangers are good guys."

"I'm not exactly one of them. They gave me one of their armor as a thank-you gift."

"You've got guts to come around here with it," continued the man, looking at the pass and the wagons. "This place is swarming with guys who only live for one thing, the pleasure of chaos. Whether it's killing, looting, raping, or burning down a house with people in it, as long as it makes them smile, they do it, and not necessarily in that order. And before you say anything about some morality bullshit about doing business with them, it's the only way to make sure that the caravan won't get ripped off when we pass through the area, even though with these guys you can never be sure of anything."

The transaction was completed. The merchant and his guards put their cargo back on the mutated cows. Damian waited silently and watched the Raiders walking back inside the pass. The caravan guard approached Damian again.

"You should come along for the ride with us. If these guys ever find you, they'll tear you to pieces, if you're lucky. Otherwise, they'll capture you and ship you off to the slavers at Paradise Falls. Vault dwellers are always worth the caps from what I heard. You can be sure they'll do anything to get access to your Vault.

When he heard that, Damian felt butterflies in his stomach. What if his father was a prisoner of these people?

"Do you know if there's a garage around here, West of Evergreen Mills?" Damian asked.

The caravan guard turned to him and thought for a few moments before he nodded his head.

"Yeah, a couple of hours from here, there's an old garage, Smith Casey's Garage I think it's called. But there's really nothing to see there, except old car wrecks and a few hunters who stop there for the night. What's that for?"

"No reason."

The caravan guard shrugged and walked away, telling Damian to take care. Damian watched the rocky pass and the wagons. There was no guarantee that his father had taken the same route to get from Project Purity to Vault 112, but there was also no guarantee that the Evergreen Mills Raiders hadn't captured him.

Damian sighed and headed south around the entrance of the pass, hoping to find a way to get a view overlooking the Raiders' lair.

* * *

**I guess that being lied to during his whole life by your own family is a terrible thing. To be honest, I realised that the Lone Wanderer was not born in the Vault until my second or third playthrough. Seems I wans't paying too much attention to the backstory of the main character. Anyway, hoped you enjoyed and stay tuned for the next chapter.**


	11. Chapter 11: The Bazaar

**Please enjoy and thank you to those who are still reading this story.**

* * *

Damian managed to circle around Evergreen Mills and positioned himself above the place. He had managed to sneak up to a headland guarded by a sniper. With the butt of his rifle, he had knocked out the shooter and borrowed his weapon, which was in very poor condition.

The Evergreen Mills camp was an old factory. The looters had set up several sheet metals shacks in the yard and guard posts at the exit of the defile and on the heights around the camp.

Damian placed the sniper rifle scope in front of his eyes. He inspected the entrance to the camp and noticed a large enclosure where several people were crammed in rags. From his position, Damian could not tell if his father was among them. He changed his position to get closer when something in the center of the camp caught his attention.

A large metal enclosure three or four meters high. Damian noticed small electric sparks coming from the fence and metal plates of the cage. Electric cables ran along the grates and were connected to a generator next to the cage door. It wasn't the fact that the pen was electrified that shocked Damian, but what the Raiders kept inside.

A Super Mutant Behemoth. The same one that attacked Damian and the Brotherhood outside the Galaxy News Radio building. Well, it was not exactly the same one, as Damian was convinced that he'd pulverized the monster's body with the Fat Man. But it was one of those giants that was in the enclosure.

Damian pulled his face away from the scope and sighed. Entering such a large camp, just for a guess, and moreover a guess that he had put himself in the head was sheer madness. He rubbed his temples. He sighed and looked at the camp when an idea came into his head. Damian placed the rifle scope in front of his eyes, aimed and fired.

The generator that energized the Super Mutant's cage exploded. At first, the twenty or so Raiders present turned towards the place where Damian had fired, before they all started running in different directions when they saw or heard the gigantic Super Mutant escape and spread chaos in the camp.

From his position, Damian watched the fury of the Mutant trampling, crushing or sending the Raiders into a frenzy. The Super Mutant grabbed one of the wagons and used it as a club, pulverizing the Raiders who were unfortunate enough to get in his way. He threw the wagon onto one of the factory buildings before fleeing.

Damian climbed down and walked into the camp, stepping over the crushed remains of the Raiders, and headed to the cage where the prisoners were. They were all gathered at the gate and looked at Damian with disbelief. Damian looked at each of them carefully, but none of them were his father.

"Have you seen a man in his fifties, with a blue jumpsuit and something like that on his wrist?" Damian asked urgently, raising his wrist with his Pip-Boy.

The various prisoners looked at each other without talking. None of them answered. Damian sighed and pretended to walk away.

"Wait! Wait!", hailed one of the prisoners. "No, we haven't seen anyone like that here, but I know they keep other prisoners in their Bazaar."

"Where is it?" Damian asked, staring at him.

"Inside the factory."

Damian stepped back and gave several blows with his rifle butt into the lock of the door, which broke after a few hits. He opened the gate and the prisoners rushed outside. Damian did not have time to hear them thank him as he had already left for the center of the camp.

The Behemoth had left a real carnage behind him. The Raiders occupying the outside of the factory did not stood a chance. Damian headed towards the entrance of the factory. The inside of the main building was plunged into darkness. Damian turned on the lamp of his Pip-Boy and swept the room with the light beam.

A staircase and metal walkways led to maintenance rooms on the upper floors. Damian remained silent and listened. The place was deserted, as the Raiders who were inside had probably headed outside when the Behemoth escaped.

Damian inspected the upstairs rooms, which had been converted into a bar, office or dormitory by the Raiders. He noticed a door on the ground floor. Damian opened it and looked inside. The door was leading into a natural cave, furnished with bar counters, billiard tables, tables and chairs and even two giants dices hanging from the ceiling.

Music, laughter and bursts of voice came from higher up in the cave. Damian walked a little deeper, as silently as he could. Wooden planks were used to climb higher up into what looked like a collapsed part of the factory buildings.

The Raiders were all drinking, smoking, singing or staring at a group of women, more or less dressed, dancing around a metal bar planted in the ground. Damian took his eyes off this scene and tried to climb a little higher. A bottle broke next to him and he ducked behind a rock.

"Hey! I saw something there!" yelled a voice.

Damian heard the Raiders approaching.

"What?" asked a second voice.

"I don't know... A Molerat or something, but I'm telling you I saw something move."

The cave went silent.

"You saw nothing you retard hallucinating drunk," one of the Raiders said as he walked away.

"Fuck you! I really saw something! I'm drunk but I ain't fucking blind!"

Damian heard someone sigh. His eyes were going in all directions, looking for a way out. He heard footsteps and a partially muffled voice.

"Whatever it is, I'm going to burn your thing down."

Damian jumped on his legs and aimed in the direction of the Raiders who all stared at him in disbelief. He shot and hit one of them, standing in the middle of the others. The Raider, shirtless, with a welding mask covering his face, collapsed under the dazed looks of his companions. Damian noticed the large tank he was carrying on his back just before a fireball engulfed the Raider and his companions beside him.

Damian took cover behind the rock and felt the heat wave pass right over him. He stuck his head over his cover and saw that most of the Raiders were surrounded by flames. Some were rolling on the ground screaming in pain, their flesh gradually being devoured by the napalm in the tank of the flamethrower. Others were desperately trying to extinguish the flames that were burning their arms or legs.

Damian left his cover and went deeper into the cave. All around him, the Raiders were in agonizing screams. A smell of burning flesh began to fill the air, mingling with the fumes of alcohol and drugs already floating in the cave. The group of strippers rushed to the exit screaming, jostling each other. They were careful to stay away from Damian, giving him frightened looks.

Damian climbed up on the planks, and higher into the cave. Raiders, completely drunk or high on drugs, were lying on sofas or mattresses and watched him pass by, waving at him as he was one of them. One of them got up and immediately collapsed face down on the ground, snoring. Damian came to a collapsed floor and began to climb. Just above, a counter, from which emerged a woman with pink hair and a rifle. She aimed up and shot. The bullet went into the wall next to Damian, throwing shards of concrete and rock everywhere. A sharp pain crossed Damian's cheek. He stumbled and tumbled down the slope, dropping his rifle. He turned his head towards the woman who was putting a new round into her rifle. Damian rolled to the side and leaned against the wall. He drew his pistol and fired blindly. He heard a squeak and a body fall to the ground, before he saw the woman roll to his feet, motionless.

Damian climbed up the slope, picking up his rifle in the process. He reached a room with several doors. He opened the first door and received a punch in the face. Damian stepped back, tears rising in his eyes from the pain. He felt the counter in his back that stopped him. As he opened his eyes, he recognized the spiked-hair man he saw earlier, naked, rushing at him with a knife. Damian parried the attack, grabbing the man's wrist with his hands and forcing to push him away.

Damian could see the tip of the blade slowly approaching his face. He kicked his opponent in the crotch. Hit hard by the metal shin guard of Damian's armor, the man squealed as he dropped his weapon and collapsed. Damian broke free. He walked behind his attacker and with another kick, threw him into the opening where he tumbled down to join the woman's corpse.

Another door behind Damian opened. A scantily clad woman walked out of the room. When she saw Damian, she raised her hands in the air. A man came up behind her and grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her to the floor. He raised his rifle to Damian, who jumped over the counter for cover. The door in front of Damian's opened and another Raider came out. He was hit by a shot of lead which tore his stomach and chest. He collapsed backwards. Damian heard a scream and saw a woman sitting on a bed trying to cover herself with a sheet, while looking at the dead man at her feet.

A second shot rang out. The counter shook and Damian received broken glass, confetti of paper and wood on his head. Damian stood up and fired, hitting the Raider on the shoulder and then on the head. Damian looked at all the other closed doors. He checked them one by one. All of them had rooms, occupied by young women.

"Are there any other prisoners here? A man in his fifties with the same thing I have on my wrist?" asked Damian.

The women, terrified, all shook her head frantically. Damian left the room with a sigh. He had thrown himself into the lion's den for nothing, just to find a camp of drunken, intoxicated Raiders and a brothel. Damian curses himself internally for always putting himself in troublesome situations. He turned to the women still in the rooms and motioned for them to come out. The prostitutes gathered their few belongings and ran out of the brothel, muttering thanks to Damian.

_"Thanks Dad. When I find you, I'll make sure we have a long chat about all the problems I got myself into, thanks to you." _Damian thought as he returned to the cave.

In the cave, Damian stopped to pick up a Nuka-Cola from a counter. The Raiders who didn't end up burnt to a crisp were still too drunk or high on drugs to be a threat. Damian heard a noise coming from another tunnel. He crouched behind a pool table and leaned his rifle on it.

A man in a leather coat with a shaved head and a large moustache appeared in the tunnel. He looked at the massacre before his eyes and when he saw Damian, he raised his hands in the air.

"Wow! Don't shoot, don't shoot!"

Damian pulled his face away from his rifle and raised an eyebrow as he looked at the man.

"Oh boy, look at this mess. It's going to take days to clean it up.", sighed the mysterious man when he saw the burnt corpses.

"Who are you?" Damian asked without putting down his gun.

"Name's Smiling Jack," said the man. "Merchant. I'm the one who's in charge of supplying this mess with food, alcohol, ammunition,...

"An slaves?" Damian asked with anger.

The merchant raised his hands and shook his head.

"Wow, hey, buddy, I'm a businessman, as long as I have my share of caps and people buy or sell from me, I don't care what happens here. But if it makes you feel better, the girls at Madame's are treated well. Or at least, they were until you killed everyone," he added in a lower voice.

"Let's talk about those prisoners", said Damian, pointing his finger to the door leading to the surface. "Any of them out of the ordinary? Fifty-year-old, a vault suit and a Pip-Boy?"

Smiling Jack stroked his moustache as he squinted his eyes.

"Nah," he answered, shaking his head. "The guys in the paddock outside have been here for two weeks and before that there were just three kids that we sent north. Hey, you're not planning on shooting me, too, are you? I'm just here to make some money..."

Damian was already thinking about the fact that his father had never set foot here and that he was probably already in Vault 112 or had gone somewhere else, leaving some clues behind. He looked at Smiling Jack again who was looking at him nervously. Large drops of sweat were beading on his forehead. Damian got up and, with his gun still pointed at the merchant, headed for the factory exit. Smiling Jack watched Damian disappear into the cave and heard the factory door close behind him. He let out a smile of relief and looked around him.

"And who's doing the cleaning? It's always the same one," sighed the merchant as he looked at the charred corpses and debris around him.

Damian left the defile and went around Evergreen Mills. He walked West, following old steel towers connected by electric cables. Eventually he came to a small building on the side of a road.

_"Smith Casey's Garage"_. The name was on the front of the building. The building was used as a garage and gas station before the Great War. A few wrecked cars and trucks, piles of tires and pieces of metal and sheet metal piled up around the small building.

"You'd better be here," Damian sighed as he looked around.

The road going North was closed by a roadblock of sandbags and military vehicles. Damian saw dead bodies, wearing the same armor as the Brotherhood men, except that it was black and the edges of the armor were red. Damian also noticed the remains of robots around the camp and what appeared to be the trace of a large explosion. Former soldiers of the US Army or the National Guard, on a mission just before the bombs hit, it seemed.

Damian took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The garage was entirely dark. The smell of rust and decayed corpses was in the air. Damian turned on the light of his Pip-Boy and while lighting the entrance, fell on the corpses of three of those big rodents he had met in the subway and near the Super-Duper Mart. The bodies had been there for perhaps two or three days with gunshot wounds, a sign that someone had been here recently.

Damian noticed a door leading to a back room that used to be for car repairs.

"Dad?" called the young man, pointing his gun at the door and lighting the opening.

He got no answer. He sighed and began to look around. There was nothing to suggest that a TV Shelter was built here. Was it at least in the right garage?

_"There can't be a hundred garages like this one around here."_ Damian thought with a sigh. _"Come on, Damian, search."_

He searched the driveway of the garage but found nothing but two-centuries-old junk and tool. Corpses, shelves full of tools, empty barrels, boxes, nothing that indicated that Vault-Tec had built a Vault inside the Garage.

Damian was about to give up when he noticed that one corner of the floor seemed cleaner than the rest, as if the layer of dust that had built up over the last two hundred years had been cleaned only there. The color was also slightly different in this area than in the rest of the room. Damian carefully pressed his foot on the floor. The sound was different, metallic, not like the concrete in the rest of the garage.

Damian crouched down and put his hand on the floor. He knocked on it and a hollow metallic sound resounded, like if there was something underneath. Damian looked up and around him for a switch, a lever, anything. On the wall, he noticed an electrical panel with a lever. He walked up, put his hand on the lever and lowered it.

A metallic squeal sounded in the garage. Damian looked down and saw that a metal trap door was starting to open in the floor. A hole measuring one meter by three had just appeared right where Damian had noticed it earlier. The trap door was hiding a staircase that went under the garage. Damian began to walk down the steps, praying that the hatch would not close behind him and trap him underground forever. His fears disappeared when he saw a switch on the wall of the staircase that activated the trap door.

Damian came down the stairs into a large concrete room with generators, grates, pipes and another staircase leading to a service tunnel. Damian entered the tunnel and followed him. As he walked, he wondered what he might find in the Vault. He imagined his father, sitting in a study room, surveying dozens and dozens of scientific books or his nose stuck to the screen of a terminal, reading Braun's work on this G.E.C.K.

As he walked along, something caught Damian's attention. What if his father had never been inside Vault 112? What if the people who lived there denied him access? What if he never even made it to garage? Damian shook his head to chase away his thoughts. In the last few hours he had realized he didn't really know his father. This whole Project Purity thing, his life before Vault 101. However, the one thing he was sure of was that James was a determined person and that he could be certain that he would have found a way to get into Vault 112 to find Braun's work.

The corridor led Damian into a tunnel with curved walls and ceiling. The floor was also lightly dug with gratings for water drainage, probably in case of flooding. At the end of this tunnel, a shape that Damian knew very well. On the concrete wall was the typical gear shape of the Vault-Tec's s fallout shelters. The number _"112"_ was painted in yellow in the center of the heavy door.

Damian stepped forward. The door was sealed. He approached the control console next to the door. As he wondered how to open the door and what he might find once inside, he heard an alarm sound and an orange flashing light illuminated the tunnel intermittently. The heavy steel door creaked as the screw went in and pulled it onto its rail.

The door rolled to the side and Damian looked inside. He heard the lights of the Vault going on and lighting up the steel and concrete walls and floor, so familiar to Damian, with the same pale glow. If the door had opened for him, then there was a good chance that his father had gone in too. However, he found it strange that the door unlocked when he arrived without him having to manipulate the control console.

The entrance to the Vault was an exact copy of the entrance to Vault 101 or the Museum of Technology exhibit. If there was one thing Vault-Tec was known for, it was that they were built to last. The place was clean, almost immaculate, as if that the primary task of the residents of this Vault was to clean it every day. A vision that slightly reassured Damian as to the probable hostility of the inhabitants of this antiatomic bunker. After all, who in this devastated world cared about dusting?

Damian headed to the only door that could lead him further into the Vault. Damian operated the latch and opened it to find himself in a corridor, cluttered with containers and crates, all stamped with the Vault-Tec logo. At the end of the corridor a second door. Damian approached it when he saw the latch move without touching it. He moved back and directed his weapon towards the opening. Pointing his gun at the person who had opened the Vault and who was coming to meet him was not the best message to send. Nevertheless, he made sure to leave his rifle clearly visible in front of him and he backed away to take cover in case of danger.

What he saw when the door was fully open left him speechless. Of all the things that his mind had imagined, the thing that stood before him was not even at the end of the list, he had not even imagined that such a thing could exist.

The door had been opened by a robot. That Vaults had robots and machines didn't seem strange to him, Vault 101 had Andy, and he suspected that having robots to assist in the maintenance or upkeep of parts of the Vault or to perform tasks too dangerous or difficult for a human was not so out of the ordinary in other Vaults. What left him speechless was the appearance of the robot, which had nothing to do with Andy or the Protectrons of the metro or Megaton.

A polished grey metal cylinder, surrounded by an orange pipe, with two long black rubber tentacles, each ending with a pair of pliers as arms. The body of the machine was mounted on tracks in the shape of a triangle. The head of the robot was a tray, covered with a glass lid. The robot moved a little further forward and Damian let out a hiccup of disgust and horror when the lights from the Vault lit up the head. The glass lid didn't contain the robot's CPU or any mechanical part, but a brain, a real organic brain, bathed in greenish liquid.

Shivers ran through Damian's skull when he realized that the size of the brain in the machine could match that of a human brain, even though it appeared to have expanded, not being compressed by a human skull box.

Damian was awakened from his torpor by a soft female voice emanating from the machine.

_"Welcome to Vault 112, resident! According to our sensors, you're 202.3 years overdue."_

Damian didn't have time to realize that this meant that the Vault had been sealed two years before the Great War or that the machine considered him a Vault 112 resident, that the robot pursued.

_"Before we continue, please put on your Vaut-Tec vault suit. If you've misplaced it, I have permission to provide you with another."_

The machine swung around and rolled to a metal box from which it took out a blue and yellow combination in blister pack and handed it to Damian.

_"Once you are dressed, please take the stairs to the main level to sit in your lounge chair."_

The robot swung back on itself and rolled away, without allowing Damian to answer or ask any questions, leaving him alone with his new suit in his hands. Damian walked down the same corridor as the robot and arrived in front of a row of windows, offering a bird's eye view of the Atrium of Vault 112.

His jaw dropped when he saw that the Atrium was occupied by a row of a dozen strange oval glass capsules, arranged in a circle around a large pillar, with red lights, terminals and a multitude of cables. The terminals on the pillar all faced these capsules. Damian could also see two more of these robots with brains rolling around the room and seemingly maintaining the place.

Damian went down to the pillar and took a close look at the device. It looked like a huge computer. In an adjacent room, Damian could see a row of servers and terminals.

_"Please put on your vault suit"_

The robot's voice behind Damian startled him. Not knowing if these machines would think he was an intruder, or if they had a weapon system that could reduce him to a small pile of ashes, Damian laid down his rifle and took off his armor to put on the suit. A strange feeling came over him as he finished zipping up the suit.

Damian picked up his rifle and left his armor in a corner. After making sure the robots weren't going to dispose of it, he went to inspect the capsule closest to him. He climbed up the capsule a little, using cables strong enough to support his weight and looked through the glass dome. He was surprised to find a woman inside. Wearing a vault suit, she was in her thirties, maybe a little bit me. She was sitting in the capsule on a lounger and was staring at a screen. She could have been quite attractive, if she didn't have a shaved head, almost glassy eyes and a slight dribble of drool dripping from her half-opened mouth. Damian noticed the battery of electrodes covering her skull. He turned his head to try to see the screen on which the woman's eyes were riveted. He saw what looked like a street and a house, although he wasn't sure because of the sepia tint the screen had. Damian wanted to knock on the window, but the woman's condition made him understand that she was not going to answer him, and he wasn't even sure she would hear him.

Damian went downstairs and walked to the terminal right in front of the lounger occupied by the woman. He plugged in the computer and the screen lit up after a few second.

_RobCo Industries - Unified Operating System_

_Copyright 2075-2077 RobCo Industries_

_-Server 7-_

_Lounger n°37 - Monitoring station_

_Resident ID: 227 - - Simpson, M._

_ View Resident Status_

_ Display the resident's stress level_

Damian selected the first option and a new screen, displaying a vital signs monitor appeared on the computer.

_ Pulse: 92/min_

_ BP: 150/80_

_ Temp: 98.9F_

_ Respiratory rate: 20/min_

The second option seemed to indicate that this Ms. Simpson was in a high stress state, although this was difficult to determine just by looking at her. Damian approached another capsule. This time it was a man, also wearing a vault suit, with a shaved head, electrodes covering his skull and that same blank stare fixed on a screen. The terminal attached to him also showed only his vital signs.

Damian looked around him. There was an oppressive silence in the room, broken only by the distant humming of computers or the random squealing of the robot tracks.

"What's going on here?" Damian whispered as he returned to the woman's capsule. "These people. They look like they've been lobotomized or are in some kind of trance. How long have they been here?"

Damian went around the capsules. Suddenly, he ran up to one of them and climbed on its side to the person sitting in it.

"Dad! Oh my God, Dad!"

Sitting in one of the loungers was James. There's no doubt, it was his father.

"Dad! Hey Dad! It's me, Damian!"

The joy of having finally found his father mixed with the fear and distress of seeing him sitting like that, with all those electrodes on his head and that same absent look on his face. He too was watching a small screen installed in the capsule and Damian saw the same kind of scenery he had seen on the woman's screen.

"Wake the fuck up!" Damian cried out.

He hit the glass with his fist but saw no reaction from James. The glass was too thick to hope to break it by hitting it and it was out of the question for him to start shooting through it. Damian jumped down and rushed to the terminal corresponding to James' capsule. The same thing as on the two previous terminals was displayed, except for a small message asking for an identity check of the person occupying the lounger. Damian searched for a way to open the capsule, to get his father out of there, but the only options available in the terminal were the vital signs display and James' very high stress level.

Damian tapped his fist on the computer case, which caught the attention of one of the robots, which intimated to Damian, in the same voice as if he had offered him a cup of tea, to make less noise.

Damian ran his hands over his face and through his hair. He thought quickly about how to get his father out of there. Then he thought back to the robot's words, asking him to sit in a capsule. Damian went around the room again and found an empty one. He heard the squealing of the tracks of one of the brain machines behind him.

_"Are you ready to settle down in your lounge chair?" _asked the robot in a female voice that, if it had been a real woman, would have been bursting with erotic innuendoes.

"That caps... That chair over there," Damian said, pointing to James' capsule. "Is it possible to open it?"

_"Please take a seat in the lounge chair, sir."_ replied the woman's voice.

Damian put his hands on his head and looked at the capsule. He didn't want to go in that thing, but a brief glance at his father gave him the courage to do so. He was probably taking the risk of getting stuck inside, but he felt that if he wanted to get his father out of there, he had no choice but to enter the capsule.

Damian sighed and nodded. The robot remained motionless and the top of the capsule lifted, revealing a beige leather armchair. After one last hesitation, Damian climbed inside. The lid closed on him and he felt a helmet resting on the top of his skull, probably the electrodes he had noticed on the other residents and on his father.

Immediately, he felt as if his spirit was leaving his body. He tried to move but his limbs refused to obey him. The screen in front of him lit up and a sepia-colored image of a small neighborhood with wooden houses and small, well-kept gardens appeared. Damian felt a small electric shock on his skull. To his surprise, his body did not move. His eyes also refused to move. He was forced to stare at the television screen in front of him. He wanted to move, but once again his body refused to obey him. He began to panic and tried to open his mouth to scream, to call for help, to order those damn robots to get him out of there. His mouth opened but no sound came out.

Damian couldn't look away from the TV screen. His vision blurred. The Vault, the capsules, the machines around him that he could see in his peripheral vision gradually disappeared. His vision blurred even more and the last thing he saw, before a big white flash enveloped him, was a little girl, her face twisted by a sadistic smile.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed. Normaly, there is no particular reason to go to Evergreen Mills in the game, except to get the Bobblehead or that achievment for killing all the Behemoth, but since James mentions it in the holotape, it would be credible for Damian to head inside to look for him, in case he was capture.**


	12. Chapter 12: Welcome to the Machine

**Damian has now entered the strange capsules of Vault 112. What will he find and how will he deal with this new situation? Find out below in this chapter. Please enjoy.**

* * *

The large white flash disappeared and Damian blinked several times to clear the blurred shapes he saw. The first thing he noticed was that the landscape in front of him had nothing to do with the dimly lit, grey corridors of Vault 112. Moreover, everything he saw around him had the same sepia-colored tone and a small, joyful, heady melody was floating in the air in a loop. Damian rubbed his eyes and looked around him.

Wooden houses, a small asphalt street, well-kept gardens, new cars, flowering trees and a small playground in the center of the neighborhood. This vision also reminded Damian of the pre-war movies he had seen in the Vault. The typical American suburb of the 2070s.

Damian was observing this unusual environment when he heard a voice behind him. He turned around and saw a man in his forties, with a shaved head, a few wrinkles on his face, wearing pants, a shirt and a sweater approaching him with a broad smile.

"Beautiful day isn't it?" said the man.

"I, uh... Where am I now?" Damian asked, still trying to gather his thoughts.

The man burst out laughing and put his hand on his head. Damian immediately realized that the man was much taller than he was.

"You're in Tranquility Lane, of course! Where else would you be?"

Damian displayed an expression of incomprehension and the man continued talking.

"You'll see, everyone here is very nice. Including old Lady Dithers, even if she's not in her right mind."

"That's nonsense...," Damian whispered to himself, forgetting that the man was right in front of him. "It can't be, I'm in the Vault. What happened to Wasteland, and all the destruction of the Great War?"

"Looks like you've spent too much time reading those damn comic books," the man said in a scornful tone of voice. "You'd better go play outside like Timmy. Why don't you go see Betty? I'm sure she'd love to play with you."

The man walked away, and Damian saw him greeting a couple, chatting happily in the front of one of the houses. Damian looked down and saw that he wasn't wearing the vault suit or his armor but jeans, a striped t-shirt and that his Pip-Boy had been replaced by a watch with the Vault Boy logo on it.

"I must be dreaming… It can't be true," Damian mumbled.

He took a few steps down the street and passed a car parked in the driveway of a house. He saw his reflection in the polished body of the car and what he saw left him speechless. Instead of seeing the reflection of a young man in his twenties, he was standing in front of the reflection of a 10-year-old child. His reflection of about ten years ago. That's when he remembered everything. Smith Casey's garage, the Vault 112 giant computer, his father and the other residents trapped in those strange capsules, him entering one of the empty capsules, that electric shock he had felt, the television screen showing a pre-war suburb and the face of that little girl with her perverse smile across her face.

Damian was still in Vault 112, sitting in one of those capsules. The place he was in was nothing more than a virtual simulation. His father was trapped inside and so was he.

Damian approached an older man, wearing a cap, glasses and a stained mechanic's suit.

"Hey there, pal!" said the man. "What's up?"

"Uh... I'm looking for my dad, have you seen him? Middle-aged man."

The man smoothed his moustache before answering.

"Well, nope. But don't worry, he'll be back."

"You haven't seen anyone come in here lately, dressed in a weird outfit?"

"Not that I know of, no. But you can ask Mr. and Mrs. Rockwell, the Neusbaums, Martha or Miss Henderson. Maybe they'll know more than I do. Don't worry, people at Tranquility Lane are kind and always helpful."

"Look, I know this whole thing is just a super credible simulation, but..."

"Really?" cut the old man off with surprise. "Tell that to my big toe. I bumped it yesterday and I can assure you the pain is real!"

Damian didn't know what to say. If all the people he passed by were like this man, then asking questions about his father or being in a virtual simulation would end up the same way, with astonished looks and everyone taking him for what he looked like at that very moment, a 10-year-old child.

"Excuse me, kid, but I have to go. Bye bye!"

The man walked away whistling the American hymn. Damian walked around the neighborhood and as he had planned, the residents of the simulation treated him like a 10-year-old child, responding with smiles or friendly pats on the shoulders or by ruffling his hair and telling him to go and play with the other children.

Desperate and out of ideas, Damian went to sit in the center of the neighborhood, on the swing in the playground.

"There's got to be a way, something that will open their eyes to the fact that they're in a computer and none of this is real," Damian mumbled, staring at the grass in front of him, thinking.

Seeing everything in that sepia hue was starting to get on his nerves and he found himself regretting the dull, monotonous gray of Vault 101 or the depressing brown of the Capital Wasteland. A dog approached and sat facing him, wagging its tail. Damian smiled a wry smile as he looked at the dog and started scratching behind his ear. The dog was tied to a post with a chain.

"You're pretty convincing for a computer-generated dog," Damian said.

The dog walked away and Damian looked at it briefly. Looking ahead of him again, Damian saw a little girl, wearing a dress, black shoes and little hair clips, standing in front of him. As Damian looked up, he realized that it was the same little girl he had seen on the TV screen in his capsule just before he was launched in the simulation. Upon realizing this, Damian was startled and fell off the swing. Even though he was in a virtual world and not physically there, the pain he felt when he fell seemed real to him.

"Oh, a newcomer," said the little girl overjoyed. "How lucky I am right now! I was getting bored but now that you're here, we'll be able to play! Oh, I feel like we're going to have a great time!"

"I don't feel like playing," Damian said, getting up and massaging the back of his head.

"I said we were going to play some games and that's what we're going to do," replied the little girl on an annoyed tone.

"What good is arguing with a computer program," Damian mumbled. "I'm sure that if I ask you where my father is or tell you that we're in a fallout shelter in the middle of the post-nuked D.C. area, you'll insist on playing and think I'm crazy."

Damian walked away and heard the little girl laugh behind his back. He wasn't sure why, but that little laugh gave him the creep.

"So, the man who came here is your father?"

She giggled again. Damian turned around stunned.

"We're going to have fun! We're going to have so much fun, you and me!"

"What? Wait, do you know where my dad is? Where's my dad? Is he okay?"

"Yeah, but we're gonna play a game."

"Stop with the stupid game! I want to know where my dad is and I want an answer now!" shouted Damian.

The little girl's smile faded. She remained inexpressive for a few seconds until she started smiling again. A bad, sadistic smile that immediately made Damian uncomfortable. A perverse little gleam lit up in the little girl's eyes as she looked into Damian's eyes.

"Come on, no naughtiness. We'd be off to a bad start."

Damian froze. The little girl had just spoken, he was sure of it, as her lips were moving, only the voice that came out of her mouth was not the one he had heard. It was no longer the sweet voice of a 10-year-old girl but that of a man, with a strong accent that Damian didn't recognize, an accent that pronounced the _"w"_ in _"v"_ and pressed down on every letter of every word.

"Wha... Who are you?" Damian stammered.

"I used to be known as Doktor Stanislaus Braun, but here I chose a different identity. You can call me Betty."

"But... That's impossible! You lived before the Great War? How can you be alive?"

Braun sighed and shook his head.

"Tut tut tut tut tut... So many questions from you, like your father. I'll answer your questions if you agree to take a little game with me."

"All I want is to find out where my father is and get out of this place!"

"Then it's agreed," smiles the little girl with Betty's voice. "It's simple, you make Timmy Neusbaum cry and I'll help you. Otherwise... Otherwise, I don't think you'll ever know where your father is."

Betty walked away, whistling and dancing. Damian put his hand over his face. Stanislaux Braun was alive. That meant he and the other residents of this Vault had been in this simulation for two centuries. Damian left aside the fact that he was facing people born before the Great War, to focus on what Braun, or Betty, whatever that person name was, had just asked him. Why make a little boy cry? What was Braun's point in doing that?

Damian sat on the swing again and started thinking. He was convinced Braun knew where James was, but he didn't want to make the poor boy cry. Damian got up and looked around.

Timmy Neusbaum was a little boy of about 10 years old, sitting behind a small wooden stand with glasses and jugs and a wooden sign reading _"Lemonades 5cent"_. Damian guessed that it was him, as there was no other young boy except him, in the neighborhood. He approached and stopped in front of the stand.

"Hi! My name is Timmy. Do you want to play together?"

"Timmy, I'd like to ask you a few questions. They're a little weird, but I really need your help."

"Uh... Okay," answered the little boy frowning.

Damian looked behind him. He saw Betty picking flowers and throwing small glances and mischievous smiles at him. Damian leaned forward and lowered his voice before addressing Timmy.

"Look, Timmy, Betty, she has something I have her, but she won't give it back to me unless I do something for her."

"Oh, you wanna play with her red racer tricycle, too? It's so cool! Dad won't buy me one, so I'm selling lemonade to buy one."

"What? No. Look, Betty wants me to make you cry or she won't tell me where the thing I want is. I just need you to..."

"But why did Betty say that?" cut the boy off with surprise. "Why does she want me to cry? She didn't say that, I don't believe you!"

Damian sighed. The last thing he wanted was to participate in Braun's sadistic game, but Timmy Neusbaum wasn't making it easy for him.

"Timmy, none of this is real, it's just a simulation created by a crazy pre-war scientist and..."

"What? You're weird!"

Timmy looked at Damian, frowning and Damian could see that the boy was getting scared.

"All I want, Timmy, is for you to pretend to cry. It's very important to me and..."

"So, Timmy, you having fun, son?"

Damian turned his head and saw the bald man who had greeted him earlier walk towards them. He walked out of the house behind Timmy's stall and approached Damian and the young boy.

"So boys, what are you doing?" asked the man, looking at them in turn with a look far too happy to be real.

"He's saying weird things, Daddy," Timmy replied, pointing to Damian. "I wanted to tell him about Betty's tricycle and that I was going to buy one, but he kept saying weird things, that the house isn't real."

"Damn Timmy, still on that story?" replied his father, visibly annoyed. "If you get picked on by a 10-year-old girl, what kind of man are you going to be when you grow up?"

"But Daddy...," Timmy began to say in a sad tone.

Damian stood back and watched the scene in disbelief. He wanted to speak up and defend poor Timmy, but his father wouldn't let him and pretended to ignore him. Damian looked around him and saw Betty watching them and seemingly gloating with pleasure.

"You have to toughen up Timmy," his father said a little too abruptly. "I don't want you to end up like a wimp. You're a man and it's time you act like a man. That's why I've decided to send you to Hoffman's military boarding school to toughen you up a little."

Timmy burst into tears. Neither Damian nor the boy's father expected that reaction.

"Please daddy no! I don't want to go! I don't want to go away from Mommy!" Timmy cried.

"Timmy, I know. I know that..."

"You know? No, Daddy! I promise I won't wet the bed again, but don't send me away from Mommy!"

Timmy's father frowned before opening and closing his mouth immediately. Timmy got up from his chair screaming and crying and ran into the house. His father looked at Damian and stammered something before he went into the house.

Damian remained silent and watched the door of the house close behind Timmy's father. He heard laughter behind his back and turned around to see Betty laughing out loud. The little girl wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"It wasn't really what I expected," Betty said as she tried to calm down. "I think I did the right thing asking you for this."

"You're completely sick, you know that?" Damian cried.

"I suggest you be a little more careful when you address me," Betty said with a smile.

"Enough joking. Where's my father?"

"Ach ja, your father," said Braun's voice. "He's here at Tranquility Lane. Don't worry, he's fine for now. Let's just say he's unable to nag me with questions. Gut, now that I've answered your question, we can continue to play."

Damian grabbed the little girl's arm. Physically attacking a child disgusted him, but he knew that the person in front of him was just a sadistic mad scientist and not a little girl.

"Enough of your crazy games! Tell me where my father is and get us out of here now!"

An electric shock passed through Damian. He screamed and let go, collapsing to the ground.

"I'm so disappointed in you," said Betty's voice, lazing with sadness.

She leaned over Damian who was just recovering from the shock.

"I'm in charge here. You won't leave until I say so."

The little girl stood up and giggled. She looked around the different houses until a broad smile appeared on her face.

"I consider you won the first game and rewarded you with a question. Now to get another answer, you have to play another game. You see, the Rockwells are on the road to perfect love and I find that... Boring."

She had a long sighed and she shook her head.

"End their marriage and I'll give you another answer."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Why? Because I can!" said Braun. Here I am God! I have the right of life and death over these people! But enough talk," the scientist said with Betty's voice. "I think you've got a divorce to oversee."

Betty walked away whistling the same melody that had been floating in the air since Damian entered the simulation. He stood up with difficulty. The electric shock was more painful than anything he had ever endured before. Damian went to sit on a bench, his body still sore from the shock. He tilted his head forward and ran his hands through his hair. Taking part in Braun's torture game disgusted him, but he had no choice. It was the only way for him to save his father and get out of this nightmare.

He stood still for several minutes, thinking, weighing the pros and cons. The dog had returned to see him and seemed very interested in him. Damian did not react. He disgusted himself. He couldn't believe he was doing this. On the other hand, Braun had trapped these poor people for 200 years and probably put them through worse than a divorce or a few tears. He looked up and took a deep breath and sighed. He pushed the dog away with a slight wave of his hand and stood up before heading to the Rockwell house. On the way, he heard two of the residents of Vault 112 talking. A woman, wearing a dress and apron, was chatting with the man in the cap. As Damian walked by, he heard them talking about the Rockwells. He stopped next to them and pretended to lace on his shoes.

"Janet and Roger look like they're making the perfect love," said the woman

"Yeah, it's good to see. Tranquility Lane is a really nice place, thanks to its people," answered the man.

"Did you know they had a big fight last year?" the woman asked, lowering her voice.

"No, I didn't know, but it's normal for couples to argue from time to time."

"Yes, but I think Roger and Janet are showing us a facade. I think this perfect marriage is just fake."

"You're not serious, Mabel?" said the man. "Roger is crazy in love with Janet."

"Haven't you seen the way he and Martha look at each other? I'm sure there's something between them or that Martha has already tried to use her charms on him and he gave in. And I'm sure Janet suspects something from the murderous looks she's giving Martha."

The man burst out laughing.

"Come on, Mabel, Roger is a faithful man. It's simply unthinkable that he could do such a thing to Janet."

"Quiet, Martha's coming," muttered the woman. "Hello Martha, how are you today?"

Damian turned around and saw a very attractive woman, wearing a dress revealing her shoulders and upper back. She smiled a radiant smile at the two adults and looked at Damian with a little surprise before smiling at him as well. Damian recognized the woman he had seen in the capsule and whose data he had read on the terminal. He had also just found a way to get the Rockwells divorced.

Damian was acting for the good of his father and that was all that mattered. Once he got out of the simulation, he would find a way to free those poor people. Damian watched Martha Simpson to find out where she lived and quietly followed her home. She entered one of the houses. Damian approached the window and saw her go into the kitchen. He waited a few minutes and saw Martha Simpson leave the house. He hid behind a bush. He waited for her to disappear into another house and went inside.

On the outside, Martha Simpson's house was identical to the others. The interior was probably the same as any other residence. A large living room with a staircase, a corridor leading to the kitchen, a cupboard with a small television facing a sofa, an armchair and a coffee table with a book placed on it, paintings representing forests or landscapes and a large table with several chairs. Damian looked in the kitchen to make sure he was alone and went upstairs.

His plan was going to follow the same pattern as a detective story he had read in the Vault. He was going to take a piece of Martha Simpson's clothing and place it in Mr. Rockwell's belongings and arrange for his wife to find it first. As he walked up the stairs and into the bedroom, he repeated to himself over and over that what he was doing was nothing compared to all that Braun had had to put Vault 112 residents through during two centuries of simulation and that he was only doing this to save his father.

Damian arrived in Martha Simpson's room and opened the wardrobe. Piles of clothes were neatly arranged, and Damian lifted some of them up as gently as possible so as not to leave any marks. In a drawer he came across a rather large collection of underwear.

He grabbed a very daring lace outfit and unfolded it. Damian stood still for a moment, staring into space. Suddenly he thought of Amata wearing only this kind of outfit. He shook his head.

_"Now's not the time, Damian. You'll have plenty of time to think about that when you get out of there and return to the Vault,"_ Damian thought.

He rolled the clothes into a ball under his shirt and closed the drawer when he heard the door of the house open and footsteps going up the stairs. He looked around and dove under the bed. A pair of legs belonging to a woman entered the room and Damian held his breath. If Martha Simpson caught him here, with her underwear in his possession, he was convinced that the electric shock he had received would be nothing compared to the fury of this woman.

Martha Simpson stayed in his room for a few minutes. She had opened her wardrobe and Damian was in a cold sweat at the thought of her realizing something. The young woman left the room and Damian heard her coming down the stairs. Damian waited for a few seconds and crawled from under the bed to the stairs. He could hear Martha Simpson putting things away in the kitchen. As quietly as he could, Damian walked down the stairs and opened the door to leave the house.

Once outside, he let out a long sigh of relief. Looking near the playground, he saw Betty watering plants and waving at him. Damian shivered and moved towards the Rockwell house. The couple were in their living room. Roger Rockwell, a man in his forties, wearing a checked shirt and jeans noticed Damian at the window and went to open the door.

"Hey there, boy. What are you doing here?"

Remembering that he looked like a 10-year-old boy, Damian decided to act like one, at least he tried to remember how he talked and acted when he was that age.

"Hello Sir, I just moved in with my father and he told me to get to know the other people in the neighborhood."

Roger Rockwell smiled cheerfully and invited Damian in. Placing Martha's underwear in their room now seemed impossible. Roger Rockwell pointed to his wife with his hand.

"Welcome to Tranquility Lane, kid. This is my wife Janet and I'm Roger. So, how are you and your dad enjoying yourselves at Tranquility Lane?"

"I just got here, so I don't know yet."

Damian was trying to be as convincing as possible. Luckily for him, either he was a very good actor, or the simulation had brainwashed the Rockwell couple to think everything was real.

"I'm sure you'll like it here," Janet Rockwell smiles.

Damian nodded, thinking of a way to end Betty's disgusting task.

"Oh, but you must be thirsty with this heat," said Roger's wife. "Come with me into the kitchen, I'll serve you a nice fresh Nuka-Cola."

She took Damian by the hand and dragged him into the kitchen. Perfectly similar to Martha Simpson's, the rooms also had the same furniture in the same place, to the millimeter. Such a concern for organization reminded Damian of the organization of Vault 101 living quarters.

Janet Rockwell invited Damian to sit down and placed a Nuka-Cola on the table. Damian noticed a door that he supposed was leading to a basement.

"Mr. Rockwell?" called Damian.

"Yes, buddy?"

"Are you tinkering?"

"Well, yes, I do. I have a workbench in the basement."

Damian raised his wrist where his Pip-Boy should have been and pointed to the Vault-Boy watch he was wearing.

"I think my watch is broken. Can you fix it for me? It was a gift and..."

"Don't worry about it," smiled Roger. "I'll fix it for you. You can even help me if you want."

"Oh, that would be great!" Damian said, faking enthusiasm.

He and Roger went down to the basement. Damian took off his watch and gave it to Roger Rockwell.

"I think that's the mechanism. Look in the office, there should be a lamp. I need to see a little more clearly.

Damian turned to a piece of furniture with several drawers and approached it. He opened it and discreetly grabbed Martha Simpson's underwear. He put them in the drawer and took a deep breath.

_"I'm sorry, Mr. Rockwell, but I'm doing this for my father,"_ Damian thought as he opened the door again.

"Mr. Rockwell?"

"Yeah, buddy, what's up? You found the lamp?"

Damian waited for Roger Rockwell to join him. Faking innocence, he grabbed the lacy underwear and gave it to the man.

"I... I found this and..."

He left his sentence hanging. If the simulation didn't have that ugly sepia tint, Roger Rockwell's face would have been as red as a tomato.

"Roger, you know where I put my..."

Janet Rockwell had just come down. Her eyes widened as she looked at her husband and then at the lace outfit. She rushed on them and tore the outfit out of her husband's hands and Damian could see an expression of fury in her eyes and he saw her jaw tighten.

Forgetting that Damian was there, she looked up at Roger Rockwell and began to scream, her voice distorted by anger and sadness.

"Roger! You're a dirty bastard! I knew it! You hid her underwear in your basement!"

"Janet, it's not at all what you think... I don't know where that thing came from and..."

"Shut up! You know very well what I'm talking about! You fuck with that slut, Martha Simpson! I knew it! How long have you been banging that slut behind my back?"

"Janet, I..."

Janet Rockwell slapped her husband. The sound of her hand hitting Roger's cheek echoed throughout the room. Damian noticed the impression of the wife's hand on her husband's face.

"You disgust me! Don't you ever hope to see me again, you pig! And don't you ever hope to console yourself with that bitch!" yelled Janet Rockwell.

She turned around and walked up the stairs. Roger leaned against his desk and grabbed his face into his hands. Damian left the house and found Betty on the playground. She was whistling part of the melody that echoed over and over again in the simulation.

"So, did you like the new game?" the little girl asked.

"I've done what you wanted, Braun, now let us go."

Betty was about to answer when Damian heard a door slam behind him. He saw Janet Rockwell holding a rolling pin in her hand heading towards Martha Simpson's house.

"Oh, looks like your marriage counseling work is paying off," Braun's voice said, overflowed with pleasure.

Damian understood what he meant when he saw Martha Simpson open the door to her house and Janet Rockwell raise the rolling pin above her head.

Janet Rockwell slammed the wooden utensil on the young woman's skull. Her skull and forehead collapsed several centimeters. Damian remained astonished while Martha Simpson fell on her knees, raising her eyes, which were half out of their orbits, towards Janet Rockwell, just before the latter smashed the rolling pin again and reduced her head to mush.

Damian turned towards Betty who seemed to like the scene.

"You're a resourceful boy," Braun said. "I've asked you to arrange the Rockwell diforce but you offered me Simpson's death as a bonus."

"That's... That's... No... I didn't mean to... I..."

"All right, now...," Betty began to say, pretending to think and smiling mischievously.

"That's enough of that. I beg you make it stop. Tell me where's my father and let us go."

Participating in this sadistic game had taken a whole new twist now that Martha Simpson had had her skull smashed in. Because of him, an innocent woman had died.

"Someone died because of me... Please, Braun, release my father and let us leave this simulation..."

Betty remained inexpressive for a few seconds before turning her head towards Martha Simpson's house.

"Who died? What the hell are you talking about? Simpson's fine."

Damian turned his head and saw Martha Simpson, alive and well, her face and head with no wounds or broken bones, leaving her house and greeting with a broad smile Timmy Neusbaum and his father and another woman.

"But... I thought that... I... She's dead... I just saw her get... It's impossible..."

Damian felt a hand resting on his shoulder. He turned his head and saw Betty's face a few inches away from his own.

"You don't have to worry about them, my boy," Braun's voice said. "My friends at Tranquility Lane can only die in the real world if I choose to. In the meantime, they are free to entertain me and die as many times as I want, in as many ways as I wish.

The little girl walked away before turning back to Damian and giving him a look and a smile full of mischief.

"I haven't had this much fun in a very long time and you, my friend, have not yet reached your full potential to distract me."

* * *

**I voluntary misspelled a few words in the lines spoken by Braun, to emphasize that he speaks with his real voice with a German accent. I actually can't remember if Braun has a strong German accent in the game (at least in the French dub he as something close to a German accent), and I got lazy to play the game again or verify on internet. Anyway, hope you enjoyed.**


	13. Chapter 13: Server issues

**Hello eveyone, hope you're doing well. Please enjoy.**

* * *

Damian couldn't believe it. Martha Simpson was alive. He was sure he saw her being beaten to death by Janet Rockwell. He turned to Betty, who had started watering plants again.

"I don't understand... I saw her get killed... You saw it too... I..."

"Come on, don't bother about so meaningless things," Betty's voice said. "If they'd die for real as soon as the slightest little boo-boo happens to them, I'd have been all alone for a long time."

Betty looked at Damian and smiled.

"You're a boy full of surprises," said the little girl with Braun's voice. "I'fe asks you to destroy the Rockwell marriage and you offer me murder. You're original. We'll continue to use your resources to the fullest. That's why for my next game, you must kill Mabel Henderson."

Damian did not respond. Braun's demands weren't getting through to him. He was simply sick of seeing a man his father seemed to hold in high scientific esteem, playing God in a computer simulation and torturing and killing people repeatedly for over two centuries.

Betty frowned when she saw Damian's lack of reaction.

"You're not thinking of an excuse not to play with me again, are you?"

Damian shook his head. The little girl smiled and walked away whistling that same happy tune that made the situation even more gloomy.

"Just one thing, beating her to death wouldn't be fun. Show me you can be a creative boy.

Damian watched Betty sat on the swing. He walked away and went to sit on a bench. He buried his face in his hands and tried to think. Murder in a creative way. What kind of a sadist could associate creativity with death? He raised his head and looked around him. He was looking for something, he himself didn't really know what, but something, an object, an element that would be out of the ordinary, although for him, the whole simulation was already out of the ordinary. Everything he had around him seemed normal, at least if you consider that seeing life in a sepia tint and being trapped in a pre-war American suburb was normal.

Braun would have had something in place to handle the simulation from the inside, in case he found himself unable to control it from his chair in the Vault. Braun's perverse little games had left him depressed, first because he had participated against his will, but also because Damian's actions had dramatic repercussions. When he got out of here, Damian promised to kill Braun with his bare hands. He got up and decided to inspect every nook and cranny of Tranquility Lane.

As he passed one of the houses, he saw Timmy Neusbaum inside. After a brief hesitation, he decided to go to him and apologize. Braun may have resurrected Martha Simpson and erased her memory and that of Janet Rockwell, but there was no guarantee that Timmy had _"forgotten"_ his meeting with Damian.

He entered and found Timmy in the living room playing with a pair of roller skates. Damian approached and the boy turned to him.

"Hi my name is Timmy Neusbaum! Do you want to play together?"

"Okay, he erased your memory too," Damian whispered.

Timmy looked at him frowning.

"You say weird things, like Betty."

"Look, this is going to sound strange, but I apologize. I really do."

Timmy Neusbaum raised his eyebrows, having no idea what Damian meant.

"Why?" asked Timmy.

"For, you know, making you cry the other day."

"I don't remember that," said the kid. "You're no fun."

Timmy walked away. He climbed upstairs in the house. Damian looked inside the house. The house was like Martha Simpson's and the Rockwell's. He decided to check it out, looking for anything Braun might have hidden.

He decided to go upstairs and found Timmy in the hallway, still playing with his roller skates. When he saw him, the little boy left his things there and went back downstairs. The room, a woman's bedroom, had nothing that intrigued Damian beyond belief. He inspected the bathroom but found nothing but the most immaculate bathtub he had ever seen.

On the way out, he came face to face with a woman wearing a dress and apron. Damian recognized the woman he had seen talking in the street, the one who had given him a way to destroy the Rockwell couple.

"Oh, hello," smiled the woman. "Well, honey, what are you doing here?"

"I was, uh... I was... I was playing hide-and-seek with Timmy!"

Damian had just made up this lie, convinced the woman would believe him because of his 10-year-old appearance and the fact that only him, Betty and his father, wherever he was, knew that everything was not real.

The woman smiled at Damian and pretended to look in the bathroom.

"Well, it looks like he's not there. Why don't you go get him and then I'll make you a delicious pie?"

"I'll... I'll go get him"

Damian took pity on these poor people, condemned to act like the average American citizen, unaware that they were in the grip of a mental scientist, trapped in a fallout shelter for 200 years.

The woman walked to the stairs.

"By the way, sweetheart, what's your name?"

"Damian," replied the young man. "Damian Franklin."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Mabel. Mabel Henderson."

Damian felt as if he had just been punched in the stomach. He had to get away from this woman at all costs before he could harm her. Damian started running. Mabel Henderson was already at the top of the stairs. Damian stopped but felt he was walking on something slippery. He skidded forward. He had stepped on one of the skates that Timmy had left on the floor and was now rolling straight towards Mabel Henderson and the stairs. Damian let out a hiccup of surprise and hit the woman head-on.

The jostling stopped and he fell backwards. He got up gruntled, massaging his shoulder. Mabel Henderson was gone. Damian rushed to the front of the stairs and let out a cry of frustration and anger.

"Damn it! Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm gonna kill you Braun, as soon as I get out of here, I'm gonna unplug your fucking chair and strangle you with my own hands!"

Damian let himself fall to the floor and clenched his fists. He put his hands on his head and felt the tears mist up his eyes. Mabel Henderson had been thrown over the staircase railing against the chandelier that lit up the house. Her head had impaled against one of the steel spikes of the chandelier and Mabel Henderson's body was hanging above the floor, blood slowly dripping from the huge wound and onto the floor.

Damian could already hear Braun congratulating him. What was he going to ask him next? To slit the throats of all the inhabitants one by one? The little music that was still floating in the air irritated him even more. Worse than that, it made him dizzy. Damian got up and left the house, ready to face Braun's twisted new game. When he came outside, he felt a hand on his shoulder and was startled. He turned around and saw an old, African-American woman looking at him with a surprised and panicked expression.

"You... You don't belong here. You don't belong here!"

Damian was about to break free, thinking that the woman was going to talk to him as if he were really a 10-year-old child when she uttered a phrase that left Damian speechless.

"It's not real, it's all fake! It has to stop... The suffering has to stop!"

The woman dragged Damian into the house next door. She closed the door behind her and looked out the window with a nervous look on her face.

"None of this is true! It's just a nightmare he's created."

Damian let out a laugh. The woman moved backwards. Damian smiled broadly and had tears in his eyes.

"At last! Finally, someone who realizes what's going on! Are you the old Dithers the others are talking about? The one who's supposed to be crazy because she's the only one who really knows what's going on here?"

The woman also seemed relieved and went to sit on the sofa in the living room.

"That bastard Braun thinks he can play God because he's the one who created this artificial world. But I know he's using the fail-safe."

"Wait, what are you talking about? What fail-safe?" Damian asked. I know about computers, but this (Damian spread his arms and pointed to the simulation) is science-fiction."

"I don't know how this place works either, but I do know that it's possible to control its main functions from a console in the abandoned house. He doesn't want us to go for fear we'll find it, but I know it's there."

"So, if I find this failsafe, can I get out of here?"

"It's the only way to stop this," Mrs. Dithers said, looking gloomy. "You have to find it."

Damian rushed to the door before stopping and turning around.

"If you know this isn't real, then you've seen me? I mean, did you see that kid, Timmy crying and that Martha Simpson getting killed?"

Dithers was silent. She nodded her head before she answered.

"I saw it, yes, but I also saw that it wasn't what you wanted. If it makes you feel any better, know that Braun has done far worse to us. Things you couldn't imagine."

Damian left the house. He looked around, for the abandoned house and finally found it. The abandoned house looked like all the others, except that there was no name on the mailbox and the garden was not maintained. The grass was beginning to encroach on the sidewalk. The interior, however, had a noticeable difference. First, it was dark, and only a small ray of light from one of the windows allowed you to see a little bit. Secondly, the entire house was in a mess, like a tornado had burst into it and many objects were knocked over or lying on the floor. Damian noticed something, however. Some of these objects stood out, first because they were the only ones standing upright and looking tidy, but also because they were the only ones in the beam of light. Among these objects, Damian counted an old garden gnome on the edge of an overturned sofa, a cinder block on a coffee table, a radio and a glass jug.

Damian wanted to inspect the rest of the house, but the gloomy atmosphere in the house, coupled with the fact that these objects seemed to be there for a reason, made him give up the idea. He looked around and stumbled across a coffee table with an empty soda bottle. He grabbed the bottle to keep it from falling and a sound echoed through the house. Damian stood still, convinced that he had just activated a defense system where a mutant creature would come out of the shadows and devour him.

Seeing that nothing was happening, he pressed the bottle again. The same sound resonated, like a musical note. Damian pressed the garden gnome and a different sound resounded. He got excited, touched the other objects and they all made a different sound.

_"A code. It is a code. If I find the right order to press this objects, it should bring up that famous fail-safe."_, Damian thought.

His excitement was short-lived. He obviously had no idea what the code was, and to try his luck at random by trying different sequences would take him a long time, hours, maybe even days.

That's when he noticed that the house was silent. Relieved at first that he no longer had to put up with the heady music of Tranquility Lane, he noticed that the sounds produced by the objects had similarities to the melody. Damian pressed the random objects several times in a row.

He stepped back and began to think.

_"How does that damn music sound already?"_ he thought while looking at the objects around him one by one.

He began to whistle the melody, trying to remember the tune and the order of the notes. He pressed the radio. The sound echoed softly around the house. He repeated the tune in his head again and tested another object, the garden gnome. The two notes didn't match. He pressed the radio again and then pressed the glass jug next to it. The two sounds followed each other perfectly.

"Well, now we just have to find the rest," Damian whispered as he tried a new object.

The soda bottle emitted a sound that sounded wrong in the sequence of notes. Damian had the music spinning in his head. He wanted to go back outside to listen to it again and be sure, but he was afraid Braun would find out what he was up to.

After many tries, Damian had finally found the sequence. He had touched these objects so many times that he was convinced he had polished the edges. The radio, the jug, the garden gnome, the cinder block, the garden gnome and finally the soda bottle.

Damian touched the edge of the bottle and immediately a hissing sound was heard. He turned his head and discovered that a large computer console had just materialized. Damian stood still for a few seconds to make sure that no security system would be triggered. He put his fingers on the keyboard that had appeared and the screen above it lit up.

_ Access "Chinese Invasion" program_

_ Access version control_

_ Dr. Braun Entry: Toucan Lagoon_

_ Dr. Braun Entry: Slalom Chalet_

_ Dr. Braun Entry: Tranquility Lane_

Tranquility Lane wasn't the only simulation Braun seemed to have created over the past two centuries. Damian selected Braun's first entry and began to read the lines on the screen. From what he could see, Braun had already been torturing the residents of Vault 112 in another environment, that of a small tropical beach, and he seemed to have enjoyed making Martha Simpson die of disease or making Neusbaum (Damian hoped inwardly that it was one of Timmy's parents and not the boy) get eaten by a shark. What shocked Damian even more were Braun's last words on his note, _"I am, quite simply, bored."._ Instead of stopping everything, this sick man, who had obviously got tired of killing these people over and over again, had simply decided to change the setting of his _"torture chamber"_.

The second entry described his hesitation to change the setting again, after seeing the blood of old Mrs. Dithers dripping from her corpse impaled on a grate in fresh snow. As he read this, Damian thought of the body of Mabel Henderson, hanging from the chandelier in her house, with a metal spike running through her face and head.

Braun seemed to have a fondness for the Tranquility Lane simulation, which reminded him of his hometown in Germany. Damian finally understood where the scientist's horrible accent came from and began to think that Braun would have lived wonderfully in 1930s Germany. Braun also seemed pleased that his victims felt safe in this environment. It was true that the residents of Vault 112 had all been born before the Great War, so they must have been born and raised in this kind of suburb before the bombs fell.

"_I do believe we shall all remain here in Tranquility Lane for a very long time. A very long time, indeed."._ Braun's last words in the note sent shivers down Damian's spine as he imagined Betty's sadistic smile.

The terminal's version control option gave Damian only basic information about the simulation. What he found in the entry titled _"Chinese Invasion"_ was much more interesting.

First there was a message from a General Constantine Chase. According to what Damian could read, he had provided Braun with a program that would make the death of anyone in the simulation effective. In other words, dying in the simulation would result in death in the real world. This program developed by the US Army would take the form of an incursion of Chinese soldiers on American soil. War at your doorstep.

Damian noticed that Braun had also left a note on the program.

"_There are days I consider finally "pulling the plug," as it were, and putting a permanent end to both this simulation, and my life._

_That is the reason I requested installation of General Chase's Chinese invasion program, after all. By disabling the safety protocols, I have ensured that each subject in Vault 112 will physically die if their in-simulation avatars are killed._

_Real-world death. End of simulation. The perfect failsafe._

_At least it would have been, if not for my own misjudgment. I knew, when the simulation first went online, that the secondary safeties those established for all Vault-Tec and military personnel would prevent my own real-world demise in the event of a Failsafe execution. In the end, I would kill the subjects, and save myself._

_I wouldn't want it any other way. Or so I thought._

_It's true the Failsafe would scare the living hell out of every resident in Tranquility Lane, and lead to their brutal deaths. But then what about me?_

_I have no ability to disable my own safety from within the simulation. And any other avatars I could create would be driven by the simulation's A.I routines not actual living, thinking, human subjects._

_Where's the fun in tormenting a machine?_

_And so, the release of the real-world subjects, is more than they deserve, more that I could bear. They'd be dead, and I'd be left here in Tranquility Lane, alone and tragically bored for all eternity._

_I can think of nothing more unacceptable"._

"You selfish son of a bitch," Damian whispered.

Damian understood that if he activated this _"Chinese Invasion"_, he could find a way out of the simulation with his father, but in the process, he would cause the death of all the residents. The only consolation was that Braun would continue to live in the simulation, alone, forever.

Damian took a deep breath. He felt bad about having to kill all those innocent people, but it was the only way out of this hell. Their death would be more bearable, however, because it would mean their release from Braun's yoke.

He walked away from the console and looked out the window. Betty was watching one of the houses while scratching her chin, probably thinking of another way to make the inhabitants suffer. Damian returned to the console. He selected the Failsafe and after a last brief hesitation, validated.

At first, nothing happened. Damian was convinced that the program had finally been deactivated by Braun or had simply crashed. In frustration, he kicked the console. An alarm began to sound. Damian was startled and looked around. The alarm didn't come from inside the house, but from outside.

Damian opened the door and the alarm became much louder. It wasn't an alarm like the one at Vault 101 in case of a Radroach infestation or the one signaling the door was opened. He had heard this alarm before, while watching a pre-war film in History class. A siren announcing an air attack.

Damian looked up and began to hear a hum, getting louder and louder. A few seconds later, an impressive plane with four propeller engines flew overhead, followed by several others. In their wakes, they dropped parachutes. As Damian squinted his eyes, he noticed that there were men hanging at the end.

They landed in the street and got rid of their backpacks, which were connected to the parachute. All of them were wearing military outfits that must have been grey. They all had Asian traits on their faces. Some wore woolen hats with a red star in the center or a helmet covered with a net.

The first ones to put their parachutes away drew their assault rifles or machine guns and started screaming in a language that Damian did not understand. Damian heard a bang right next to him. The soldier had just shot Roger Rockwell that had come to see what was going on.

The bullets started to fly everywhere. Damian bent down and started running towards the center of Tranquility Lane. Arrived on the playground, he took cover behind a tree and looked around him. The Chinese soldiers seemed to ignore him and just shot at the houses and residents who were unlucky enough to be on the street.

Turning around, Damian noticed that a door had just appeared in the middle of the playing field.

"Do you realize what you've done? You have activated the Failsafe! You've ruined everything! The subjects will die, and I'll be stuck here! Alone!"

Betty was giving Damian the eye shot. Between two assault rifle staccatos, Damian could hear the little girl's voice overpowering Braun's.

"I spared these people's suffering!" Damian said, raising his voice to cover the shots.

"You took them all from me!" Braun exploded. "I've got nothing left!"

"These people are not yours! You're just a crazy man who played with the lives of these poor people! I freed them!"

"Du kleiner Dreckskerl!"

Betty attacked Damian and tried to strangle him. Damian stepped back and managed to push the little girl away. She started screaming hysterically, Betty's voice mingling with Braun's, shouting insults in German. Damian turned around and saw the dog he'd met earlier scratching at the door that had appeared.

Without really thinking, Damian rushed at him and removed the chain he had around his neck. Then he pulled the handle and pushed the door open. He felt an electric shock go through his body and fell to his knees. Betty had just sent him another attack. Damian straightened his head and saw that the Chinese soldiers seemed to have noticed his presence. They raised their weapons and just before the detonation, Damian felt the dog's jaw close on the collar of his shirt and pull him through the door.

A great white flash blinded Damian. The images of Tranquility Lane paraded before his eyes, the different inhabitants, the Chinese paratroopers, the dog, Betty. The white light faded away. Damian blinked several times.

His surroundings were dark. Right in front of him, a television screen, displaying a static screen, several circles on a grid, and an Indian head with his feathered headdress and the words _"Please stand by"_.

He was sitting in the capsule that had plunged him into the simulation. Damian managed to move and raised his arms to remove the electrode cap he had on his head. The lid of the capsule lifted. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there, but his legs were struggling to carry him and when he got up, he fell out of the chair.

He felt the cold floor of Vault 112 and a sense of relief came over him. He got up painfully and grumbled. He could still feel the effects of the electric shock on his body. After he got up and grabbed his assault rifle, Damian heard footsteps. He raised his head and his gun at the same time.

The footsteps came from behind the row of capsules. He saw the person approaching and his face entered the neon light. Damian felt the tears rise in his eyes and a smile lit up his face. James was right in front of him. He seemed clueless and blinked quickly, looking around him. When he saw Damian, he looked surprised, as if he had just seen a ghost.

"Hi Dad," Damian said.

"Son... you..."

Damian didn't give him time to finish his sentence. He jumped on his father and embraced him, tears of joy running down his cheeks.

* * *

**Finally, the Tranquility Lane nightmare as ended and Damian found his father. I read on the Fallout Wiki that the sequence to activate the hidden computer in the house is the music that plays in the simulation. Thing is, I never figured out the tone nor the order to press the objects, so I "cheat" everytime I play this quest.**

**And i som****eone wondered, yes, previous chapter is a reference to Pink Floyd (again).**

**Hope you enjoyed and until next time.**


	14. Chapter 14: The Reunion

**My publishing rate dropped a little, mainly because I'm focusing on translating as much chapter as possible to publish at least on a regular basis a little. Please enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

Damian couldn't control his tears. He was so happy to have finally found his father after all he had gone through that he refused to let go of him for fear he would disappear again right in front of his eyes. He finally let go of his embrace after a few minutes. He looked at his father. He had grown incredibly old. James had only been gone for a few days, and yet Damian felt as if he had aged several years. His features were drawn, his eyes darkened, and his cheeks hollowed out.

"Damian," managed to say his father, who seemed to have difficulty realizing that his son was standing in front of him. "You saved me. I was afraid of being trapped here for eternity."

James put his hand on his son's shoulders. He ran his hand on his face to come back to his scent.

"I'm really glad to see you, but... What are you doing here?"

His smile was gone, and a stern look was starting to appear on his face.

"I've come to find you!" said Damian. "You disappeared and left me alone in the Vault!"

"That's the point! What are you doing out of the Vault? You were supposed to stay there, make a life for yourself instead of coming here!"

"What about you? You abandoned me, you left without saying goodbye! What was I supposed to do?"

"Stay there! The outside world is far too dangerous for you! You have no idea of the horrors that can live in it!"

Damian frowned. He opened his mouth several times, but no sound came out.

"Are you joking?" Damian finally said. "I saved your life and all you do is yell at me?"

The anger was piercing through Damian's voice. His father had left him alone in Vault 101 and now that he had finally found him, his father was blaming him for being here. James sighed and his face softened a bit.

"Listen, Damian. I really appreciate your help. Without you, I'd probably still be in the form of that dog at Braun's mercy. But you could have had a nice life in the Vault."

"'_A nice life'_?"

Damian let out a nervous laugh. He looked around and put his hand on his head.

"How am I supposed to have a nice life in a place where of the two people who don't hate me, one can't get close to me because of her crazy father and the other leaves without saying a word? How am I supposed to do Dad? How am I supposed to do that? How am I supposed to live a good life when the only family I have is abandoning me? What did you want me to do? Tell myself, that everything is okay, that a father is easily replaced?"

"Damian, I..."

James didn't have time to finish his sentence, as Damian cut him off without hearing him.

"I didn't choose to leave the Vault, you know! Right after you escaped, I was forced to follow you! The Overseer's men beat Jonas to death because they suspected him of helping you, so what do you think they were going to do to me? The Overseer went completely nuts! He even ordered his men to beat up Amata, his own daughter, so she'd tell him where I was! The Vault went to shit because of you!"

"Jonah is..."

"And wait, you don't know the best yet! Getting the hell out of the Vault was the easy part! Do you know what I did to find you here? I ran through every fucking ruin in this fucking desert hoping to get to you, and ask you why? Why did you abandon me? For a while I wanted to find you and beat the shit out of you, and drag your ass to the Vault, and when I saw you in that capsule and I saw who this Braun really was, I had only one idea in my head, to get you out of there! You know what I did to get you out of that chair? And once I get you out, all I get in return is this? A father who blames me for going after him to find out why he left?"

He was shaking and had the irresistible urge to punch something. James took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"I know, Damian. Braun asked me the same thing. I'm... I'm sorry you had to do or see these things, but I can guarantee you that I left to make the world a better place, just like I wanted it to be twenty years ago, and just like your mother wanted it to be."

"Yeah, your _"Project Purity"_," Damian said in a scornful tone. I know all about it. Your friend the Doctor Li told me all about it, and I found your tapes inside the Jefferson Memorial. I know everything, who I really am, the lies you've been telling me for twenty years, everything."

James looked down.

"Then you know why I have to do this."

He looked at his son.

"Will you help me?"

Damian was silent for a few seconds.

"Why are you doing all this, Dad? Does it have something to do with mom?"

James sighed and leaned back on one of the capsules.

"Yes, in a way. Your mother was so invested in the project, as we all were. I don't want all this to have been in vain."

There was another brief silence before James spoke again.

"If you won't do it for me, do it for your mother."

"Part of me wants nothing to do with all of that," Damian sighed. "I also know that going back to the Vault now is impossible. But another part of me wants to continue with you. I guess you made a promise to yourself to make this thing work one day and I too made a promise to Amata."

James smiled. Damian noticed that he seemed relieved with his answer.

"So, what do we do now?" asked the young man.

"Well, we just have to go back to Rivet City, once I find the information I need."

"If you're going to go back to that damn machine," Damian said, pointing to the capsule next to him. "I'm warning you that I'll knock you out and drag you out of here!"

James let out a light laugh, and Damian couldn't hold back a smile.

"To tell you the truth, I had no idea that Braun was alive, let alone that he had gone mad."

"And when you asked him to help you, that little girl offered you those sadistic games and turned you into a dog when you said no?"

"That's how you can summarize the situation," James replied. "Braun still taught me some information about the G.E.C.K., but I need to know more, especially about how to make it work."

"And you think you'll find it here?" Damian asked looking around.

James nodded. He walked towards one of the doors leading to the corridors of Vault 112. Damian quickly picked up his armor and followed him. He found his father crouched in front of the control box of a door with a light panel indicating that it was the Overseer's office. As he listened to his father mumble and watched him tinker with the wires, Damian removed the vault suit and put on his armor.

"By the way," Damian asked, adjusting his belt. "How did you find the location of this place?"

"By searching left and right. Since the Great War, the only things people have been interested in are food, water, and something to defend themselves against mutants or Raiders. To be honest, I had hard time finding the information. I finally came across the address of the garage in the papers of one of Vault-Tec's top executives. I found it strange that a company like Vault-Tec would invest so much in a shabby garage lost in the middle of the countryside, unless it was to build a Vault.

"It's true that even 200 years later, the place still looks like a simple abandoned garage with nothing to loot. I'm surprised no one's come across this Vaut since the Great War."

"Very few people dare to venture into the Capital Wasteland, apart from caravans, hunters, and Raiders."

"Still quite a lot of people."

James nodded. He plugged two cables together and sparks came out of the box. The door to the Overseer's office slowly slides open and locks in halfway, leaving enough room for James and Damian to get in.

The Overseer's office in Vault 112 was a small room, only occupied by a desk and a simulation capsule. Nothing like Alphonse's office in Vault 101. Damian approached the capsule. Inside, an old man wearing a vault suit had his eyes glued to the capsule's television screen.

"So, here is Doctor Stanislaus Braun, probably the last human born before the Great War to be still alive," said James' voice.

Damian observed Braun, sitting in his chair. His eyes moved from time to time, still fixed on the screen. Seeing him like this, and knowing that he was now alone in the virtual prison he had created, gave Damian strange satisfaction.

"By the way," asked James, who was beginning to search the office for information. "How did you manage to get us out?"

"One of the residents trapped in the simulation was more or less aware of her condition, and she told me about a security console that Braun had installed in the simulation. I did a little research and got my hands on it and activated a program that Braun had installed before locking himself in the simulation. My understanding was that it was a US Army General who provided him with the program, and it was supposed to be aimed at simulating a military invasion. The program had been modified so that people who die in the simulation would die in reality. The only reason Braun never used it was because the Vaut-Tec safety protocol of his lounger was going to prevent him from dying. Right now, our good _"Doktor"_ is alone on Tranquility Lane for a very long time.

"What a shame," sighed James. "Such a brilliant mind that loses control and ends up playing God with innocent lives."

"Yeah," Damian sniffed. "Pulling the plug out of his chair would be too good for him after what he's done. That bastard deserves to rot in his simulation alone for eternity."

A slight expression of sadness crossed James' face but faded as he continued his search. He felt as if he no longer recognized his son, who was so quiet, gentle and discreet in the Vault, and seemed to be rejoicing in Braun's fate. James consoled himself that it was only fair, after all the horrors Braun had done to these people and to him and Damian, but deep down he was afraid that this world would corrupt his son as it had done to so many people.

"I think you did the right thing," James ended up saying. "Ending the lives of these people was not an easy decision and it will certainly haunt you for a long time, but you set them free."

Damian didn't answer. He just sighed slightly. A few minutes later, James pulled out a file from a drawer. He put it on the desk and began to read the documents in front of him. Damian approached and looked over his father's shoulder. He could see and read diagrams, mathematical formulas, annotations, and a few lines of text scribbled in English and German on the yellowed pages.

A smile appeared on James' face. He gathered up the papers, folded them and slipped them inside his suit.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Damian asked.

"Yes," answered James. "Before locking himself in his capsule, Braun must have taken his notes on the G.E.C.K. with him, in case Vault-Tec asked him to work on it again, I suppose. I know what a G.E.C.K. can do, and with that, (he tapped his chest to point out Braun's notes.) I know how to make it work and connect it to the Project Purity system.

"And this G.E.C.K., where do we find it?"

James did not answer.

"You don't know," Damian concluded by seeing his father's expression.

"I don't know, yet. All I know is that the only place to find one is in a Vault. This one doesn't have one, and neither does Vault 101, since those Vaults weren't supposed to be opened after the Great War.

"So, to sum up, you're still in the same state as when you escaped from the Vault?" Damian said.

James shook his head.

"No. We may not have a G.E.C.K., but we can at least restart Project Purity and begin preparations. That's why I'm going back to Rivet City, to gather Madison's team and everyone who worked with us twenty years ago. We won't be able to get the purifier working, but if we get the whole facility back online, it'll be a good start."

He let a brief silence settle in and looked into his son's eyes.

"Are you... Are you going to come with me?"

Damian waited a few seconds before answering.

"I still haven't fully forgiven you for leaving me alone in the Vault and lying to me all my life, but if this thing meant so much to you and Mom, then I'm coming."

"Thank you, son," smiled James.

James left the Overseer's office. Damian turned to Braun's pod and looked at it one last time.

_"Enjoy your eternity of loneliness, bastard."_ Damian said to himself.

He turned around and joined his father at the entrance to the Vault. Along the way, the robots with the human brains didn't give them any trouble. James explained to his son that they were machines called Robobrains, and that the brains, which actually served as the central unit, were actually human brains.

"What do you think it was like before the Great War?"

"Have you already forgotten Mr. Brotch's History class?" James asked ironically.

"No, I know everything that happened between 1945 and 2077. The end of World War II, the rivalry between the United States and the communist countries, the Resource War, Anchorage, and the great fireworks display of 2077. I meant, what was it like to live in a world that wasn't ravaged by radiation."

James sighed and looked at the heavy door of Vault 112.

"I don't know, son. Ambient radiation is still high in parts of the Capital Wasteland, like in other places in the world, I guess. The water is undrinkable, the country is probably nothing more than a desert and a field of ruins. Two centuries after causing its near-annihilation, human beings have not stopped fighting for survival."

The door of Vault 112 slid open in a metallic din. They went up to the garage and arrived in the Wastes. A leaden sky greeted them and the now familiar depressing landscape of the Capital Wasteland.

"You haven't been out there very long," said James, looking out at the Washington D.C. ruins that stood out in the distance. "I've spent my whole life trying to make this radioactive desert a little more livable and all I've found is that man's murderous instincts didn't die with the old world."

"War never changes."

James laughed a little.

"You're becoming a philosopher," he said, a sad smile on his face. "I never wanted you to face this world, to grow up in this hell, like me or your mother."

"I know, you left everything behind after Mom died to take care of me and you went to Vault 101. Thank you, I guess, for putting your son's future ahead of everything else."

"If you really were thankful, you would have stayed in the Vault," James said with a slight smile. "It seems like you tried hard to, excuse my language, screw all the efforts I made."

"I can always put you back in the machine with Braun."

James laughed, imitated by his son. They stopped and a long, heavy silence settled in, punctuated by the whistling of the wind.

"Come on Damian, Rivet City isn't a close walk."

They took the road past the garage and headed South. They cut across field until they caught up with another road that passed near an old factory. They continued to a crossroads where they headed East.

They walked for several hours, on the lookout, but encountered nothing but stray dogs and a group of hunters following the trail of an animal called Yao guai.

"What's a Yao guai?" Damian asked.

"It's a mutant animal," explained James after a moment. "They have descended from the black bears that were found in the country before the Great War, but they are far larger and more aggressive."

"But why Yao guai? If it's a bear, why not give it a name close to it, or just call them _"black bears"_?

"'_Yao guai'_ comes from the Chinese word for demon or monster, and from the way these animals look, it suits them perfectly," said James.

"You speak Chinese? And why were they given a Chinese name?"

James paused for a moment before answering.

"Before the Great War, most Chinese nationals or people of Chinese or Asian descent were placed in internment camps. So, I suppose that if some of them survived, they must have given that name to the bears in the area, but I don't know how the name got into common parlance. Anyway, you don't want to come face to face with one of those creatures, trust me."

Damian tried to imagine what a mutant bear might look like based on the images he had found in the pre-war American Wildlife books of the Vault.

"Speaking of animals, how does it feel to be a dog?"

James laughed. It looked like it hadn't been an experience too traumatic for him.

"That was… Interesting. Quite fun I must say, although not having opposable thumbs sometimes proved to be a constraint."

They still walked a bit in silence. From time to time, Damian would ask him about Vault 101, including how his father had gotten into it.

The Overseer needed a doctor for the Vault and training a resident would take far too long. So, he agreed to let me in as long as the secret was kept by all the adults. At first I wasn't very popular, as you can imagine, but over the years, some people began to like me and were able to look beyond the fact that I was born into a world that was unknown to them and they all had to think of me as a savage."

They passed by a parking lot built on a promontory with a large white steel sign.

"The Doctor Li told me that... She told me how Mom died. But... I want to hear it from you."

James sighed and looked up to the sky. Damian looked at him and saw that his father had a strange look in his eyes.

"Your mother... Your mother died of heart complications when you were born. I tried everything I could to save her, but..."

He left the end of his sentence hanging and took a deep breath.

"I imagine you must have questioned a lot of things I said in the Vault, and I can't really blame you for this. But I never lied to you about your mother. She loved you very much, even though... Even though she couldn't show it for very long."

Damian went through his bag as they walked and grabbed one of the tapes he found in the basement of Project Purity. He handed it to his father.

"I found this in the Jefferson Memorial. I thought you might want to keep it."

James grabbed the tape and looked at the label. _"Best Days"_ was written on it. When he read it, James suddenly looked very uncomfortable. He stammered inaudibly before looking up at his son.

"You... You listened to it?"

"No comment," Damian replied with a grin as he continued walking.

They arrived in front of a small pre-war settlement. The town's entrance sign was rusted out and the name of the town was almost completely erased. Three houses were still intact, all the others were just a pile of wood half burnt by the bombs. A little further on, Damian could see the ruins of the suburbs of D.C. and its monuments standing out in the grey sky.

"By the way, how did you and Mom meet?" Damian asked.

"We met shortly before we started working on Project Purity. She already knew Madison and part of the team and..."

James stopped talking when he saw his son raise his hand to shut him up.

"Is there a problem?" James asked.

"There's someone at that window."

Damian pointed to the house closest to them. James followed his son's gaze and observed the window. At first, he thought his son had been dreaming when he saw a shadow moving inside the house. James grabbed his son by the shoulder and they hid behind a wrecked car.

"I don't think that's a group of Raider, we would have been shot a long time ago," James whispered. "But you can never be too careful."

He pulled out a revolver that was holstered on his belt and that Damian hadn't noticed. Damian raised his head and watched the house and the windows through the shattered windows of the car. He heard a door open and close. Two men appeared on the corner of the house. They obviously had no intention of hiding and walked quietly towards James and Damian.

The first man had a bald head and grey hair and a small, well-trimmed beard. He was wearing a pink and white checkered shirt with short sleeves over a grey T-shirt and black pants. The second man, with short brown hair, was clean-shaven and wore a white long-sleeved shirt, an orange sleeveless sweater and brown pants. None of them seemed armed.

Damian pulled the bolt of his assault rifle and the two men froze when they heard the 5.56 cartridge enter into the receiver.

They looked at Damian and James for a few second before waving at them.

"Hello travelers, nice to meet you! My name is Jack Smith, and this is Bill Wilson! Welcome to Andale, the most beautiful little town in Virginia!"

Damian and James looked at each other in disbelief.

"You think he's aware that Virginia hasn't existed for 200 years?" whispered Damian.

"Stay focus," replied James.

He straightened up a little and addressed the two men.

"My name is James. We're just passing through, and we mean you no harm."

"Neither do we," replied the man named Jack.

Two little figures appeared on the corner of the house. Damian was about to raise his rifle when he saw that they were two children, a boy and a girl.

"Children, come say hello," Bill said.

The boy, about ten years old, waved at Damian and James. The little girl nodded shyly. Damian looked at his father. He looked tired. He too was starting to feel stiffness in his legs.

"They don't look dangerous, Dad. Maybe we could rest for a while. Besides, it's going to be dark and I'd like to avoid wandering around the ruins in the middle of the night.

James looked down at his son and thought for a moment. He nodded before whispering.

"All right, but keep your gun ready. People who are too friendly have to be hiding something."

He stood up and addressed the two men.

"Would it be possible to stop here for a moment, if it suits you."

Jack and Bill seemed delighted and welcomed Damian and his father with open arms. They led them down the street that crossed the little town. Jack pointed to his and Bill's house, the typical American suburban home. Behind Bill's house was a small playground for children and a metal shed. Noticing that neither Jack nor Bill had mentioned the third house, a small one-story building with a small porch, Damian asked his hosts.

"Oh... That's old man Harris' house," replied Bill. "Don't mind him. He's... A little out of his mind since his wife died last year."

Damian saw a shadow behind the caulked windows of old man Harris' house. He pretended he didn't notice and turned to his father who in the middle of a conversation with Jack.

"You should come in and grab something to eat," the man said with too much enthusiasm. "Linda's pies are delicious, so why don't you two stay for dinner and then you can go on your way."

James was about to answer when his stomach growled slightly. Jack burst out laughing and invited him in.

"Come on, come on, you'll see, once you start eating her pies ,you can't stop."

Damian watched his father being led inside the house by a smiling Jack and Bill. Quietly, he made his way to the door of old man Harris's house. He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one could see him and entered, immediately closing the door behind him.

An unbearable smell was in the air. A mixture of alcohol and dirt. Damian grimaced and pinched his nose. The house had no light source, except for a small bedside lamp on a coffee table, not strong enough to light the whole room. Damian heard someone slowly approaching.

An old man, probably the source of the smell in the house, walked towards him. When he saw Damian, he looked surprised and began to look around. Damian put one hand on his pistol and the other on the doorknob.

"How did you get in here? What are you doing in this town? Get out! Get out while you can!"

"Whoa, take it easy, I'm just looking around."

The old man approached Damian who had to control himself to suppress his urge to plug his nose.

"Don't you think it's weird, a quiet little town full of friendly people in a devastated country?"

"I don't see what's wrong with being friendly, it's always better than being shot on sight."

The old man came even closer and Damian could feel his nostrils burning and a growing urge to cough and vomit.

"You must leave immediately! Everyone who enters Andale never leaves."

Damian frowned, but the man stopped him from answering.

"Get out of here before they catch you too or you'll end up like all the others!"

"What do you mean _'the others'_?"

Damian heard someone knocking at the door. The old man backed away and went to hide in another room. Bill Wilson came into the house and looked around. When he saw Damian, his face lit up with a big smile. He grabbed him by the arm and dragged him outside to Jack's house.

"I hope old Harris didn't scare you. Poor fellow, he's completely lost his mind. Come on, we're waiting for you. You'll see, Linda's pies are a wonder."

Damian had no time to protest as they already were in front of the house. He turned his head and thought he saw the silhouette of old Harris behind the window. There was something strange about this town. Damian couldn't figure out why, but he had a bad feeling, and it wasn't Bill Wilson's broad smile and overjoyed temper that would change his mind.

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**Hope you enjoyed. Until next time.**


	15. Chapter 15: Secret recipe

**I wanted to say thank you to all of you who are reading this story and to those who have favorite/followed it. You guys rock.**

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Bill led Damian inside Jack's house. The house was a carbon copy of Tranquility Lane's, both inside and out, and Damian was expecting to see Braun jumping out from behind a piece of furniture and yell at him in German.

He found the owner and his father in the kitchen, along with the two children and two women. Damian noted that there was a family resemblance between them. He also noticed that Jack and Bill also had similar traits. He didn't have time to think about it as Jack's voice rang out.

"So, James, are you involved in the politics of our great country?"

James took a brief look at Damian before answering.

"Not really. We're often on the road and we don't really have time to think about it."

"I see," replied Jack. "You should take the time to do it. Here in the great Commonwealth of Virginia, we have just elected a new governor."

With these words, Damian thought back to the message he had heard when he was heading to Evergreen Mills, the one about a President Eden. Damian wanted to smile, thinking about the fact that Jack was certainly believing that the American Government still existed somewhere.

"My advice to you and your friend, James," Jack continued. "It is the civic duty of every American citizen to vote for his or her favorite Republican candidate."

James nodded slowly. Politics. Among the topics of conversation Damian had thought of, this one was way behind the Raiders, food, Super Mutants or anything else.

"Come on, darling, why don't you give our guests a little break and go with Bill to get us some meat for the pie?"

"Great idea, honey!"

Jack and Bill got up from their chairs. Damian noticed that Jack grabbed a small key around his neck and unlocked a door that led to a basement. Damian approached his father. When the two women turned to him.

"My name is Linda," said the one who seemed to be the youngest.

She had short blond hair and was wearing a nice pink dress with heels.

"I'm Jack's wife", she said with a broad smile. "And this is Martha, my best friend and Bill's wife. Welcome to Andale. Sit down, as soon as the boys are up and about, I'll make you my specialty, you won't be disappointed.

Martha was looking very similar to Linda, except she was wearing glasses. She turned to the little girl and the boy and ordered them to set the table. Damian sat down next to his father and leaned over to talk to him, so that only he could hear him.

"Something's not right here, Dad," Damian whispered. "These people are far too friendly to us and the town has no fortifications and doesn't seem to be suffering from raids or attacks. I saw the old man who lives in the other house. He looked terrified that we were here and he said some things quite… Disturbing."

"I know, son... I think this place is weird, too."

"Let's go... We should never have stopped here."

They got up when Jack and Bill came up from the basement of the house. Jack noticed that Damian and his father were standing and looked at both of them.

"You're not going to leave now. We haven't had dinner yet."

The tone in which Jack had spoken made a bad impression on Damian. He saw Bill walk around the table and stand between them and the door as the two women slowly slid their hands towards knives on the countertop.

"Kids, why don't you go outside and play," Jack said.

The two children put down the plates they were carrying and left the room.

"Why do you want to leave right now? It's very rude, you know," said Bill.

Damian couldn't draw his gun or grab his assault rifle. By the time he drew his weapon, one of the women was about to grab a knife and attack him. He could probably take a hit with his armor, but his father only wore his vault suit. He stood still and looked for a solution or an opportunity to escape.

"Bill, what do you say we show our guests the secret ingredient in Linda's pie?"

"I say that's a good idea, Jack."

Bill approached Damian and put his hand on the strap of his rifle. Damian swiveled and punched Bill in the face and he fell on the ground.

Damian faced Linda who had just grabbed a kitchen knife and was running at him. He felt the blade of the knife hit the breastplate of his armor and break in two. He grabbed his rifle and punched the woman with the butt of the stock. Damian heard something crack and Linda fell down in a squeak.

"Enough of this!"

Damian turned around and saw Jack and Martha pinning James against the wall. Jack held a sawed-off double-barrel shotgun in his hands and pointed it at James' temple, while his free hand was closed around James' throat.

"You will kindly put your weapons on the floor and slide them towards us."

"Jack... Linda, she..."

Martha drew Jack's attention to the woman lying on the floor.

"Go and see what's wrong with her!"

Martha put her knife on the table and knelt beside Linda and began to inspect her wound. Her lower jaw was in a strange position, and Damian was sure that she was not going to eat anything solid before a long time.

Damian looked at his father. James was moving his eyes back and forth between his son, a chair, and Jack, who kept turning his head towards the two women. Damian kicked the chair that slid into Jack's legs and he lost his balance. James grabbed the rifle he was holding and raised it in the air just before a loud bang resounded through the room. Damian raised his rifle towards Jack. He and his father were too close together for Damian to fire. He heard someone running to his right and saw Bill, who had gotten up, jump on him, pushing Damian against the wall.

Bill tried to take the gun out of his hands and Damian fought to stop him. Bill leaned on him even more. He pressed the rifle against Damian's throat and tried to choke him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Damian saw Martha rush towards them with a knife. He managed to kick her in the stomach. Martha swung back and impaled herself on the second knife that Linda had grabbed. The woman screamed as the blade pierced her belly. Bill turned his head and saw his wife with the handle of the knife sticking out of her body, loosened his grip a little. Damian took the opportunity to free himself. He pushed Bill with his shoulder and smashed his skull with the butt of his rifle.

Damian saw a figure throwing itself at him and heard a groan. He saw Linda's blond hair rushing towards him. She was waving her hands and arms in all directions in an attempt to scratch and hit him. Damian managed to push her away with a knee in her stomach and she stumbled over Bill's body and swung backwards, her neck hitting the corner of the table in the fall.

Damian turned to his father. He was still wrestling with Jack in hand-to-hand combat. James managed to push him away. Jack Smith raised his gun to him. Damian dove over the table and tackled Jack. They hit the basement door and it opened on the fly. They tumbled down the stairs until they hit the floor.

The basement was lit by a small light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Damian had finished his fall against a counter. He got up by leaning on the ledge. He was startled and hiccupped with surprise and terror. The body of a man, limbless, was lying on the counter. Just behind it, on a second counter, two more bodies, those of a man and a woman, equally mutilated.

In the corners of the room were cages with skeletons huddled inside. On the walls, hooks were fixed and some had a corpse hanging by its legs, over a bucket. Small drops of blood slowly flowed from the open belly of the corpse into the container.

Damian noticed a freezer in which he could see human remains, including legs and arms.

He turned around and saw Jack rushing on him. Jack pinned Damian on the counter. He grabbed a large electric knife and activated it. The blade began to rotate with a shrill metallic sound as small wisps of grey smoke came out of the motor, and Jack tried to cut Damian's face with it. Damian grabbed Jack's wrist with his hands and tried to push him away.

Damian smacked his knee into Jack's crotch, and he retreated. Damian saw his father come down the stairs and raise a gun to Jack. Damian stooped down and heard the detonation followed by a tearing sound and a body falling to the ground.

Damian got up and saw Jack's body bathed in a pool of blood, his back torn by the shot he had just received.

James rushed to his son and made sure that he was not wounded. Damian had only a few bruises on his arms and on his face, but nothing serious.

"Are you all right?" James asked.

Damian didn't answer. His gaze was fixed on the cages and the pieces of corpses that piled up in the basement.

"Let's get out of here," James said, pulling his son by the arm.

They walked up the stairs and fell on the two young children standing in the kitchen, their heads bent over the dead bodies of their parents.

"Damn it...," James whispered in a breath.

He was about to address them when he heard footsteps in the hallway and saw an old man coming in. Damian recognized old man Harris with whom he had been talking. The old man contemplated the scene, an expression of horror on his face, mixed with resignation. He turned to the two children.

"Junior, Jenny, go wait for me at home."

The two young children cast incomprehensible glances between the old man, Damian and his father, and the bodies of their parents on the ground. Eventually they left the room without saying a word and Damian heard the door of the house close behind them.

Old man Harris knelt with difficulty and bent over to the body of Linda Smith. He contemplated the woman's face for a few seconds and rearranged her hair in a gentle gesture. Old Harris sighed and ran his hand over Linda's face, closing her eyes.

"It had to be done," he said, nodding his head and looking at the other dead bodies in the kitchen. "It had to be done."

Damian and James looked at each other, surprised.

"I... Uh...," James began to say.

"Who knows how much longer it would have gone on if you hadn't put an end to it," said the old man, raising his head to Damian and his father.

Harris struggled to get on his feet and looked at the bodies of Linda, Martha and Bill again.

"You saw the basement. You know who they were," he said sadly.

Damian, who still hadn't said a word, was beginning to understand. He felt his stomach turn. Who knows how long these people had lived here and who knows how long they'd had this butcher shop under their house and cut up humans to eat them.

James and Harris kept talking, but Damian was not paying attention. He had just taken another blow of the horror of the Wasteland right in the face. He had already faced Raiders and Super Mutants and had seen their macabre trophies up close, whether they were nets filled with bones, organs or flesh, or decapitated corpses hung from stakes as a warning or decoration. He had already come close to death several times, but he had never imagined what might happen to him if he was killed.

Vault 101 would cremate the bodies of the deceased residents in a crematory oven in a grim ceremony in which the presence of all residents was always obligatory, and it was likely that Megaton and Rivet City would operate in the same way, or so Damian hoped.

In the Capital Wasteland, outside the protective walls of Megaton or the hull of Rivet City's stranded ship, Damian had could end up being eaten by a wild beast, or cut to pieces by a cannibal, leaving nothing but a pile of bones that would later adorn the armor of a Super Mutant or slowly rot in the sun, joining the long list of anonymous corpses that littered the streets of D.C. or ended up rotting under a thin layer of dust in the Wasteland.

Damian felt his father's hand on his shoulder and was pulled off from his thoughts. Harris had left, probably to try to explain to the two children what had happened to their parents and what would become of them.

He followed James outside. The depressing gray and brown of the landscape accentuated even more the unease he felt at that moment.

"We should be able to reach Rivet City before dark," James said.

He turned to his son who was looking at his hands. He had just realized they were covered in blood.

"You all right, son?"

"How can people be reduced to eating each other? Fuck, I've seen some horrible and disgusting things since I started looking for you, I've started to get used to killing, whether it's Raiders or those Super Mutants, but I can't understand how humans can be reduced to eating each other."

James sighed and approached his son.

"The people who fled to the Vaults two centuries ago are not the only ones who survived the Great War. Others were turned into ghouls, and it is likely that some parts of the world were entirely spared of radiations. But when the Vaults opened and their inhabitants faced the harsh reality of the outside world, seeing that all means of producing food went up in smoke like the big cities, some unfortunately had to resort to cannibalism to survive.

"These people... They seemed to like it. It's not like they just kill and cook a leg or whatever, so they don't starve to death. They had a recipe for cooking with human flesh... I don't call it survival. I call it insanity."

"Now I hope you understand why I didn't want you to follow me," sighed James.

James and Damian arrived in the ruins of D.C. They were on the western bank of the Potomac River and still had to walk a little to reach a bridge that was still intact to cross and reach the other bank.

The encounter with the cannibals, along with all the other things Damian had seen since leaving the Vault, began to convince him that this world was not worth saving. Instead, he was convinced that Man and all traces of his passage on Earth should have disappeared in the ashes of the atomic war, yet he refrained from telling his father, not wanting to show him that he was becoming increasingly skeptical about Project Purity and saving the Capital Wasteland.

They followed the highway into the city. The road was lined with parking lots and two- or three-story buildings, all more or less damaged, with architecture ranging from a more classical, old-fashioned style, such as the museums in the Mall, to the modern style of most office buildings in downtown D.C.

Behind the roofs of the buildings, Damian could see the tip of the Washington Monument sinking into the slowly descending clouds. The air was heavy and there was a good chance that a thunderstorm would hit the area by nightfall.

They hadn't seen anything since leaving Andale, and they just followed the endless lines of cars, always full of their occupants with their bones frozen in strange positions, which had been rusting on the asphalt of the road for two centuries. From time to time Damian would hear a ribcage or a skull cracking under his boots, reducing to dust the remains of a poor wretch who had probably tried to run for cover when he saw the huge mushroom cloud on the horizon.

A quick reading of the large road signs above the lanes indicated to Damian that they were not far from a place called _"Arlington"_. When he was still in the Vault, he remembered reading about a large cemetery where the remains of great American war heroes laid. As he looked around and saw the countless skeletons and bones that littered the streets, piled up in front of the doors of buildings or clung to the steering wheels or seats of cars, Damian sadly realized that the Earth had simply become an open-air mass grave in which a few chosen few still clung to life before adding their remains to the others.

As he looked up at the road signs, Damian thought back to one of his History classes in the Vault, where Mr. Brotch had tried to explain to them the technological, scientific or social advances that war can bring to humanity.

The V2 rockets and the German jet fighters at the end of the Second World War had given birth to jet engines for airliners or space rockets, which had enabled mankind to cross continents and oceans in a few hours or had given Man the opportunity to go to the Moon and into space.

The two atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 had precipitated the civil use of nuclear energy, giving birth to an almost unlimited source of energy, with vehicles running on uranium to replace oil, whose reserves were dwindling year by year. Around this, various technologies had developed which were then only represented in comic books or science-fiction films. 60 million dead for a legacy capable of simplifying and improving the lives of billions of others.

If every major conflict had left a legacy for mankind, then the Great War was left two things. Ruins and graveyards.

Damian was startled when he saw movement on his right. He stepped over the concrete block that separated the lanes and prepared his rifle. Seeing that his father had not moved, he straightened up to pull him towards him when he noticed that what he had seen was a small group of Brotherhood soldiers. They were at the entrance of a building with a facade decorated with columns and seemed to be guarding the place. The grey color of their imposing armor meant that Damian would never have seen them if one of them had not opened the door of the building.

"It looks like the Brotherhood is always trying to get their hands on as much knowledge as possible," James said, waving his hand to the soldiers. "But I doubt if the Arlington library contains anything useful to them."

Damian stood up and put his gun back on his back before he, in turn, saluted the soldiers who waved back after a brief hesitation.

"What do you know about the Brotherhood?" Damian asked, who had started marching with his father again.

"I guess you must have seen them if you've been to Galaxy News Radio," James answered.

_"One hell of a meeting, yeah."_ Damian thought as he recalled his encounter with the soldiers at the metro exit.

"They are... Undoubtedly one of the last hopes of mankind."

"Well, good luck to them," said Damian sarcastically.

"As far as I know, they came from West for one reason, to get all forms of technology and preserve it to prevent a second cataclysm from wiping out the world for good, but the man who commanded them, a man called Lyons, decided that helping the people of the Capital Wasteland was more important than collecting laser guns or old computers."

Hearing this name, Damian thought of Sarah and her impressive fighting skills.

"Have you thought about asking them about the G.E.C.K.?" he asked. "If they're as technophiles as you say they are, they must surely know what it is and where to find one."

James shook his head.

"The Brotherhood isn't the sharing type. Between you to me, this whole grand quest of getting pre-war technology back, including that belonging to people living in the Wasteland and using it to defend themselves against Raiders or Super Mutants, doesn't really distinguish the Brotherhood from the Raiders. If they see you with a laser gun, they will try to take it away from you. But Lyons is different from the other members of the Brotherhood back West, as far as I'm aware, but I can't imagine him lending us technology of this magnitude, if he knows where to get one."

They had walked several meters and had just passed the library when Damian noticed that the large building to their left seemed to have been renovated and reinforced with steel plates. He also noted fortifications at some of the windows, as well as platforms where there were automatic turrets.

"What's that?" Damian asked as he looked out over the long façade that stretched for more than a hundred meters.

James turned his head and looked up at the building before answering.

"It's the Citadel, the headquarters of the Brotherhood of Steel. It is probably the safest place in the Capital Wasteland, apart Vault 101.

Damian and James walked along the façade of the Citadel until they came to a parking lot, transformed into a stronghold by the Brotherhood. After being observed from a distance by a small group of soldiers, they were able to cross the parking lot and continue their way.

On their right, the ruins of D.C. stretched across the bank of the Potomac. From here they had a great view of the Jefferson Memorial and could also see Rivet City. They walked through the parking lot and past a large steel gate, connected to a crane and heavily guarded.

The bridge they had to cross was in front of them. One of the sections had collapsed and would allow them to go up and across the river. Damian and James advanced towards the ruins. The bridge was almost completely free of vehicles, probably turned into sheet metal and fortifications on the walls of the Citadel. The Potomac was slowly flowing beneath their feet and Damian could smell the sour smell coming from it.

On the other side of the bridge, the path was blocked by rubble and the only way to continue was to go down to the right towards the Jefferson Memorial. This was the same path Damian had taken when he went up to Megaton. The street they took was lined with office buildings, connected by a concrete glass walkway that ran over the road. It was at this point that Damian had to walk along the river to avoid a confrontation between a Brotherhood patrol and a small group of Super Mutants. He could see the stigmata of the shooting on the walls and floor and what looked like pieces of flesh on the bridge.

The rest of the trip took them through the scaffolding outside the Jefferson Memorial. Damian felt that his father was stepping up the pace. He, too, was in a hurry to get to Rivet City for a rest, but he was beginning to think that his father would start moving again right after talking with Dr. Li.

The aircraft carrier's steel frame was finally in sight. A crowd just as big as the one present when Damian first came was near the metal structure to get to the ship and the boarding pontoon was crowded. Damian wondered where all these people could have come from when he noticed the small, wealthy boats crossing the river to go a little further South or East.

They made their way to the entrance of the ship, where two guards greeted them with a gloomy look. As James explained the reason for their visit to one of them, Damian noticed that the second guard seemed to be bored stiffly and regularly looked at the sun, probably waiting for it to disappear completely behind the horizon before being relieved of his post and returning home.

"All right, all right, you can pass" said the guard in a yawn.

The guards let Damian and James in before questioning the next person about why he was in Rivet City. Damian suspected that the answers the security guards might have to their questions were probably all the same; business, a visit from a family member, or travelers looking for a place to stay overnight. He could hardly imagine anyone stupid enough to say that he wanted to get on the ship to kill someone, and the entry of individuals alone should only be based on the mood of the guard or the effect the visitor had on him.

In the passageways, Damian walked with great strides so as not to lose sight of his father. The latter seemed to know the ship like the back of his hand and advanced without hesitation. If Damian was separated from him, he was going to wander for hours before finding him or Doctor Li's lab.

James pushed open the lab door and walked down the stairs. The lab was virtually empty and there was no trace of Madison Li or her colleagues. James approached a Hispanic man in his early thirties who was lifting and moving crates and computer monitors. He put down the crate he was carrying and turned around to see who had just entered.

"Professor Franklin!" smiled the man. It's you! But what the hell are you doing here? I thought you had left the Capital Wasteland a long time ago.

"Good evening Garza," James answered. "I have to talk to Madison. Do you know where I can find her?"

"Doctor Li? She's probably at the Weatherly Hotel eating with the team right now. Why?"

"Thank you, Garza," replied James, turning and walking up the stairs to the hatch.

Garza stammered an answer and watched them walk away before resuming his work.

James walked down the passageways without taking the time to check whether his son was following him or not. He stopped at the hotel entrance and looked inside. Damian arrived in turn and looked for Doctor Li. He saw her sitting at a table with other people, all dressed in lab coat and in the middle of a lively discussion. James stepped forward and stood in front of their table, while Damian stayed slightly back.

"James!"

The Doctor Li had almost jumped out of her chair and a broad smile lit up her face. Her tone and expression didn't escape Damian's attention and he raised an eyebrow. The other scientists stood up and greeted James with more or less friendly smiles and handshakes.

"You're back!" smiled Madison Li.

"Yes, and with good news!"

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**Hope you enjoyed and thank you again to those who are reading/following/putting to favorite this story. Until next time.**


	16. Chapter 16: Agressive takeover bid

**Hello everyone, hope you are all doing well. Please enjoy this chapter.**

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"I was right about Braun and the G.E.C.K., James said. "If we can find one, then we can adapt it to the purifier."

Damian noticed the puzzled looks from the other scientists. The stars in Doctor Li's eyes had disappeared. She turned to her companions and addressed them.

"Excuse us for a moment."

She left the table and invited James and Damian to follow her. She led them into an empty room, dimly lit by a small yellow bulb on a wall. Madison Li closed the door behind them and looked James in the eye. She sighed deeply.

"I'd like to believe you James, I really would... But this is all so... So sudden."

"Madison!" James cried. "I'm telling you it's okay! I talked to Braun himself and he confirmed it! It's what we've been waiting for all along!"

Damian had never seen his father so enthusiastic. He grabbed the wad of papers he'd taken from Braun's office and showed them to the scientist. The Doctor Li seemed more skeptical and reserved. Any trace of the happiness that had lit up his face at the sight of James had evaporated.

"Wait, what do you mean you talked to Braun in person?" she asked.

"I don't have time to go into all the details, Madison, but simply put, he was still alive in a Vault-Tec facility, and he confirmed all my hypotheses. See for yourself!"

"I don't know, James," sighed the scientist after quickly reading Braun's notes. "That was so many years ago, and I don't know if it's still worth a try."

"Of course, it's worth a try!" James objected. "We finally have an opportunity to improve the lives of people in the Wastes!"

The Doctor Li let out a slight sigh. She smiled and looked into James' eyes.

"You haven't lost your passion, have you James?"

"It's still important to me, Madison, and I know it's important to you, too. Your lab is proof of that. You've dedicated the last few years to providing safe, radiation-free food to the people of Rivet City and turning it into a beacon of hope for the people of the Capital Wasteland. What is the difference between your work here and Project Purity?"

"James, here, I work on a much smaller and more achievable scale than Project Purity, and even if what you say is true, we don't have a G.E.C.K. and we don't know where to find one."

"I know," sighed James. "I've been thinking about it. But if we can get the Purity Project site up and running again and show to a small team some computer simulations, then I think they'll believe us."

Damian listened to them talk for a few more minutes, one making arguments, quickly refuted by the other. At the end, Madison Li sighed and shook her head. She smiled at James before she spoke.

"You know that if anyone else asks me that, I'll have him chased out of Rivet City."

"And you know I wouldn't be here if I wasn't sure it could work."

The Doctor Li remained silent for a moment before giving her decision. Damian noticed that his father seemed very anxious about being turned down.

"When this is all over, you owe me a drink," said the scientist, smiling broadly at James.

James let out a sigh of relief and a big smile appeared on his face. Damian couldn't remember seeing his father so happy.

"Let's hurry," he said. "We need to get to Jefferson Memorial and get the facility up and running as soon as possible."

"Slow down, James," said Doctor Li. "I'm willing to help you, but I need some time to gather the team and it's going to be dark soon, security will never let us leave the ship until tomorrow morning."

"She's right, Dad." Damian said. "I know you care about this thing but, look at you. How long has it been since you've slept or eaten? We've just walked halfway across the Wasteland from this garage to here and I'm tired from all the walking too. Let's get some rest and we'll start tomorrow, okay?"

James hesitated for a few seconds but the insistent looks of his son and Doctor Li brought him to his senses. Waiting one more night, after leaving a twenty-year hiatus, wasn't going to make much difference.

They left the cabin. Madison Li walked to the hotel and turned around to address James.

"I'll talk to the team and tell them to be ready for tomorrow morning," she said.

She seemed to want to add something else but settled for a smile. She turned around and walked away into the hallway, her heels resonating against the metal floor of the passageway.

Damian and James had rented a room at the hotel, the same one Damian had slept in when he first came to Rivet City. James was laying on the bed and mumbled things that Damian couldn't grasp, while reading and rereading the notes he had found in Braun's office. Damian, on the other hand, was sitting at the desk with his bag at his feet and his armor and rifle stowed within reach and had just started to take inventory of his belongings. He had removed his Pip-Boy and had turned on the radio and was listening with a distracted ear to the rock tune that was sputtering from the Pip-Boy's speakers. He became a little more attentive when the song ended and when Three Dog began to talk.

_"Threeeeeeeee Dog! Haha! How's it going, kids? If you've just joined us, you're listening to GNR, THE post-apocalypse radio where peace, prosperity and joy of life have given way to death, destruction and radiation! Life is beautiful, isn't it?"_

Damian couldn't help but smile at the eternal spirit of the host and his rather peculiar humor.

_"Tonight, children, I have some news that I think you'll find interesting. After several days without any news, the Reilly's Rangers are back in their D.C. ruins headquarters, ready to kick some ass. But where in the world have the Rangers been, you may ask...? Well, I've learned from a reliable source that Reilly and her men were trapped on the roof of a hotel in downtown D.C., surrounded by our beloved Frankensteins. But thanks to the remarkable work of 101, Reilly and her gang were able to return home, despite the loss of a brave soldier named Theo. My condolences, Reilly. Oh, and 101? Good job, kid!"_

"Now I know where you got your armor."

Damian turned to his father. James had put a bottle of Scotch and a small glass on the bedside table and every once in a while, he would take a sip or refill the glass when it was empty. Damian also had a glass with Nuka-Cola inside (his father had not let him touch or approach the bottle) on the desk next to an empty bowl. He had gone to get a bowl of noodles for each of them. After his experience in Andale, he would not look the food and meat sellers in the region with the same eye.

"How did you stumble on the Rangers anyway?" James asked.

"Well, I had to help Three Dog, so that he would tell me were you went after paying him a visit, since asking you to leave a small white pebbles trail behind you was too much to ask."

James smiled and apologized to his son before letting him continue his story.

"Three Dog wanted me to repair the broadcast relay of his radio on the Mall, and when I got there, I ended up in the middle of fight between the Brotherhood and some Super Mutants. I took shelter inside the Museum of History and discovered a city of ghouls."

"I've heard rumors about it but had no idea it was in one of the most dangerous places of D.C.," James said.

"It's not exactly hidden in plain sight, but anyway, I entered Underworld and while I waited for the fight outside to be over, I ran into that girl, Reilly. She was wounded and after she explained to me what had happened, she asked me to help her get her men out of Vernon Square."

"Why did you help her?" asked James while filling his drink.

Damian gave a slight nonchalant look to his father and gently shook his head.

"Well, you are the one who spend his life helping the others, so I guess I got that habit from you, so thank you, for making me jump headfirst into trouble," Damian smiled sarcastically.

James laughed before staring at the blank for a moment.

"Actually, you got that from your mother," he said. "She… She was always ready to help the others and… I guess I got it too after…"

James stared at the blank again.

"Uh… Have you… Have you thought about how to get you hand on a G.E.C.K.?" Damian asked to change the subject.

"Not yet," James admitted, taking a sip of Scotch. "Our only chance is to be able to find the location of all the Vaults in the D.C. region and hope that one of them has been equipped with a G.E.C.K. before the Great War. I was really lucky to come across this paper mentioning Vault 112."

"Don't you think maybe we should focus on that before we restart Project Purity? As I understand it, it was the lack of a G.E.C.K. that caused the whole thing to fall apart 20 years ago."

"We'd better not spread ourselves too thin. If we can already prove that Project Purity can work with a G.E.C.K., then we've taken a big step forward and we can focus on acquiring the missing piece."

The rest of the evening was spent in silence. Damian's eyes were focused on his father. He was afraid that if he took his eyes off him for even a second, he would disappear again. His thoughts turned to Vault 101 and Amata. Although he was convinced that making so much effort to change the Wasteland was not worth it, considering the ever increasing number of degenerates and monsters he could meet, a part of him wished that Project Purity would become a reality, whether it was to allow Amata to finally free herself from the Vault and especially to see his father live again, he who had always kept the realization of Project Purity in a corner of his mind.

Damian finished his drink and grabbed the picture of Amata in his armor. He looked at it for a moment before putting it back in his breastplate and laying on a one of the bed and falling asleep.

The next morning, at dawn, Damian and James found a small group of about ten people at the entrance of the ship. In addition to the two of them, and Doctor Li, Damian noticed two other women in lab coats that he had already seen in the laboratory, a man in his thirties, also in lab coat, and two other men. The first was the man named Garza they saw in the lab and the second was a man in his forties wearing a pale blue suit stained with oil. The rest of the group were Rivet City guards in their black battle armor.

"All right, everyone's here," said Doctor Li, looking at the small crowd. "Before we set off, I'd like to thank the security of Rivet City who will accompany us to the Jefferson Memorial. Once on site, James and I will take charge of the operations."

A slight murmur of approval rose, quickly muffled by the creaking of the hatch leading to the boarding platform. The grey clouds of the previous day had given way to a sparse blue sky with small white clouds. The boarding pontoon, asphalt and building facades were still wet from the storm that had struck during the night.

The small group, led by the Rivet City Guards, set out for the Jefferson Memorial. During the trip, Damian got to know the rest of the group better. Garza was a courteous man but with whom it was impossible to have a discussion. All Damian knew about Garza was that he helped Doctor Li to lift and move things that were too heavy for the team.

The man in the blue suit was named Daniel Agincourt. When Damian tried to strike up a conversation with him, he received only a scornful glance and Daniel simply spit out the contempt he felt for him and James.

Alex Dargon was just the opposite. A polite man who seemed to admire and respect James and Doctor Li, arguing that they were probably the two most intelligent people in the Wasteland, if not the entire Earth.

The two women who completed the group of scientists were Anna Holt and Janice Kaplinski.

Anna was a woman in her fifties, very haughty. She was the one that Damian had spoken to, the first time that he entered the lab. Anna Holt was the opposite of Janice, a reserved and polite young woman in her thirties. She had a real admiration for Doctor Li, and it was a good bet that if she asked her to jump off a bridge, Janice would do so without hesitating.

The small group arrived in front of the Jefferson Memorial entrance. Damian had felt a slight sense of pride as the eyes turned to him as they passed the bodies of the Super Mutants on the scaffolding.

Inside, everyone began to get busy. As James, Doctor Li and Janice walked towards the rotunda, Daniel Agincourt rushed to inspect the computer equipment, whispering at Damian, blaming him for most of the broken or smashed computers.

For their part, Anna Holt and Alex Dargon began to make an inventory of the machines and gathered everything that had ever been used at Project Purity, while Damian, the few members of Rivet City's security and Garza pulled the bodies of the Super Mutants outside.

Once finished, Damian returned inside the museum and joined his father in the rotunda. James was facing the ice containing the statue surrounded by water. Damian approached, seeing from the corner of his eye Li and Janice having a great discussion in front of a computer console.

"Here we are. Where it all began," James said without taking his eyes off the statue.

He turned to Damian.

"Do you remember your mother's favorite quote from the Bible?"

"'_Revelation 21:6. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end'_," Damian answered. "Of course I remember it, why?"

"'_I shall give unto him who is athirst the fountain of the waters of life freely.'_ It's all there. This is the water of life," James continued, pointing to the computers and the pipes that surrounded them. This is your mother's dream.

James lost his gaze in the blank, probably thinking about Catherine.

"Well, I guess as long as I'm here, I might as well help a little," Damian said.

"Yes, there's a lot to be done, indeed. Things have deteriorated since we left twenty years ago, and parts of the basement are flooded. You'd have to get to the control pumps to get the water out. Putting the mainframe back on before would be useless and we'd risk blowing up the whole thing."

"Okay, and where do I have to go?" asked Damian.

"The basement. You'll have to use the access tunnels to get to the pumps. You should be able to get a map of the basement down there, but if you need directions, use the intercom system."

James moved to a small table. A general plan of the building was engraved on it and small blisters the size of thumbnails were placed in various places.

"Theoretically, when the power is on and someone uses an intercom, a small light comes on and indicates where the person is. Since there is no power, I will only know where you are if you describe a little bit about your surroundings or point out a sign beforehand."

"Okay, and once I activate the pumps?" Damian asked.

"Stay by the intercom, I'll tell you what to do next."

Damian nodded. He left the rotunda and headed for the door leading to the basement. On the way, he met Daniel's still scornful gaze, but he didn't pay attention. The basement was as he had left it, minus the dead bodies of Super Mutants. Near the stairs, he noticed an intercom. He approached and pressed the button.

"Dad, are you there?"

_"Yeah, how's it going down there? Need directions?" _said James' voice through the intercom.

"Yeah, I'm at the basement entrance, where do I go?"

_"You're on the security level, there should be a fenced well on your left and a stairway right next to you. Go down and then head to the room with a big generator and a switch."_

Damian cut the communication and walked down the steps. He followed the signs on the walls and arrived in the room described by his father. On a wall, right next to an intercom, he noticed a switch. Damian activated the switch and heard a rumbling sound in the walls and throughout the Memorial. The shaking lasted only a few seconds and then he heard his father's voice in the intercom.

"_Well, the pumps have started, come back to me, I have another task for you."_

Damian turned back and went back to his father. In the rotunda, someone had plugged in a radio and Three Dog's voice was piercing through the tired speakers of the station. He announced a new news flash and talked about Megaton and the bomb Damian had defused.

"Is it true?" James asked, turning to his son.

"Yes, I did that."

A smile lit up James' face.

"I'm very proud of you Damian, even though you took a big risk. Few people would be willing to try to disarm a device that could turn them to dust with everything around them within a radius of several kilometers."

"You said you had something else for me to do," Damian said, changing the subject.

"Yes. With the flooding, some of the fuse boxes in the basement were short-circuited, including the ones managing the automatic doors leading to the central computer."

James grabbed a small cardboard box and gave it to Damian who opened the box and poured the contents into the palm of his hand. Inside were several small fuses, identical to those in Vault 101.

"The box you need to replace is located near the East end of the basement. Do you know how to change a fuse?"

"I'll have you know that I passed my G.O.A.T. and went to work in maintenance, so yes."

"Good for you. You won't be able to replace the fuses until we're sure there's no more water in the rooms. Daniel and Garza will take care of it, and it should take a couple of hours, in the meantime you can go see if Madison needs help, but knowing her, she'll want to handle everything on her own. Once you replace the fuses, you can get to the mainframe, I'll let you know more then."

Damian wandered around the museum, asking Alex Dargon if he needed any help, but the scientist just combed his little moustache and drowned Damian in a flood of scientific theories.

Damian left the laboratory and climbed the scaffolding surrounding the Memorial. There he observed the ruins of D.C., the Citadel and the mountains that stretched north into the Wasteland. Next to him, he heard the guards of Rivet City talking and pointing a direction into the ruins. Looking closer, Damian saw that they were talking about one of those little flying robots that were flying in the ruins, broadcasting the military marches and the voice of this President Eden.

The robot was on a small square with benches and telephone booths that overlooked the basin that supplied the Project Purity with water. Damian observed the little robot for a few moments. The robot did not move and seemed to fix a precise point in the water.

Damian tried to imagine the colossal amount of work that had gone into installing and erecting these pipes between the Tidal Basin and the Jefferson Memorial. As he looked at the water, he saw several small air bubbles rising and bursting to the surface.

"What's that?" he asked one of the guards, pointing to the column of air bubbles.

The Rivet City guard looked in the direction Damian was pointing and shrugged his shoulders.

"Must be a Mirelurk. Look, there's one on the opposite bank."

Damian looked at the bank but saw nothing but mud and silt. That's when he spotted a tiny movement. Brown in color, with a solid round shell covering its entire back, several legs and large claws, the mutant crab was burrowing underground, probably to rest.

The Rivet City guards engaged in a big discussion about the best way to cook a Mirelurk and Damian walked away after taking one last look at the mutated crab, which had become almost invisible, and the little robot that had disappeared.

Two hours later, Damian returned to the basement. He searched for a few minutes for the fuse box and found the ones he needed to replace. He looked for an intercom and called his father.

"Dad?"

_"Yeah, you got the fuses wired up?"_

"Yes, it's done."

_"You should be able to access the mainframe room. Remember that well at the basement entrance? You'll see a big sliding door next to it. The computer's right behind it."_

Damian left the room he was in and went up the stairs. He saw the big door James mentioned and opened it. The locks disengaged and the door split into several parts, sinking into the walls or the floor. Behind it was a large room occupied only by consoles and screens that were switched off. Damian approached one of the consoles that looked a lot like the one in Tranquility Lane. He typed a random key on the keyboard, but nothing happened. He looked around and saw a big switch on a wall. He flipped the lever and the computers came on one after the other. At the same time, the lights came on again.

"_All right, we can start working on our side."_ echoed James' voice through the room's intercom system.

"Need some help?" Damian asked.

"_There are a few things to fix here in the control room and Daniel is already busy restarting the test computers in the museum. Why don't you come up and give me a hand?"_

"No problem. I'm on my way."

_"Wait a minute, Damian."_

Damian remained silent for a few seconds until his father's voice was heard again.

_"Janice just told me that one of the intake pipes is clogged. Forget the repairs, I'll deal with it with Janice. You go back up to the museum level and call me when you get there."_

Damian left the basement. The level of the museum was much less gloomy now that the lights had come back on. He passed Doctor Li talking to Anna Holt, Alex Dargon, and Daniel near a machine. Damian found an intercom and called his father.

"I'm in the museum. Where do I go?"

_"Head for the entrance, but instead of taking a left to get out, go right. You'll see a gate and an intercom."_

Damian followed his father's directions and found himself in front of the mentioned gate, It was sixed in the ground and seemed to lead to a large pipe.

"I'm there," Damian said, speaking through the intercom.

"_Well, you have to go inside and use the manual controls to empty the hose, it will break up the debris and the filters will work properly again."_ Explained James.

"Wait, you don't want me to go swimming in one of those pipes, do you?" Damian asked a little worried.

_"No,"_ replied James.

Damian could imagine the smile that must have been on his father's face.

"_The pipes are empty, so you won't have to wade through radioactive water, don't worry. You'll just turn on a tap, it's as simple as that."_

"All right, I'm going in."

_"One more thing, Damian. Once you're in the pipe, I won't be able to communicate with you. To get out, follow the direction of the tanks, you'll land in the basement of the museum and you can reach me again."_

"You got it. See you on the other side, Dad."

Damian approached the gate. He lifted it in a long squeak and managed to tip it over. He lit his Pip-Boy and lit the hole in front of him. The pipe dipped into the depths for about two meters before it became straight again. There were no ladders or rungs for Damian to climb down, he would have to jump. He pulled out his rifle and wrapped the strap around it, so that it wouldn't get stuck on something as he descended. He sat down on the edge of the pipe and let himself slide down.

The pipe was smaller than he had imagined, and Damian had crouch slightly so that he wouldn't hit his head against the metal sheaths and power cables running along the ceiling. He finally arrived at another grille that opened to the outside.

The pipe had been punctured in places, and some grating had been attached as a makeshift repair to prevent animals from entering. Damian looked up. The sky had changed again and had become darker. He could see the scaffolding surrounding the Jefferson Memorial. He noticed a valve protruding from the fence that was connected to a pipe that was sinking into the ground.

Damian put his hands on the valve and began to turn. He had to go over it several times to make the valve turn completely because of rust. He heard a small rumbling sound, a sign that the pipes must have unclogged and that everything must be working. The rumbling continued and grew louder and louder and Damian noticed that it wasn't coming from the pipes. He looked up to the sky.

Several black vehicles drove over him in a deafening roar. The vehicle looked like an airplane with a tail, a cockpit and two wings with two huge propellers. To Damian's surprise, the wings pivoted and one of the planes began to slow down before landing vertically. A door slid down the side of the aircraft and Damian saw several people in black armor or grey uniforms rushing outside, weapons in hand.

"Secure the perimeter and take over the place!" shouted one of the newcomers.

Damian stood in the shadow of the pipe and watched the thirty or so people running towards the Jefferson Memorial. At first, he thought it was the Brotherhood of Steel, but noticed that their armor was quite different. They were black and not grey, and the helmets made them look like nightmare creatures.

The guards of Rivet City offered no resistance, and when the men in black armor came towards them, they threw down their weapons and raised their hands in the air.

Something serious was happening. Damian had to go back to his father. He continued to advance in the pipe, sliding down the walls when the slope was too steep. He finally reached the end. The pipe had led him into the well in the basement. Damian approached cautiously and heard heavy footsteps and voices distorted by microphones.

"Authority, this is Delta 2, we have entered the basement of the Memorial. Beginning the search."

"I thought there would have been more people. They just found the few guys outside, these two women and the guy in the vault suit."

"All the more reason to be careful. The rest of their team must have holed up here."

Damian stepped further to the edge of the pipe. The two men who were talking were advancing towards the well, their guns raised in front of them, ready to fire. They were wearing these big black armors. The eye caps were illuminated with red. Damian heard a creaking sound under his feet and felt the pipe wall give way under his weight. He tumbled towards the pools in a din of metal and sheet metal and hit the ground.

As he got up, he saw the two men in armor leaning towards him, their laser guns pointed at his head.

"Disarm him and tie his hands."

"Shall we take him to Vertibird?"

"No, take him to the Lieutenant, I'll finish securing this place."

Damian felt lifted off the ground. He had his hands tied in front of him by old handcuffs and felt the barrel of the laser rifle against his back. He could hear one of the two men talking on the radio built into his helmet.

While he was being taken away, he was trying to understand the situation. Who were these men and what did they want? They were talking like soldiers and looked way to organized to be a simple Raider gang. Damian walked into the museum and they walked towards the Memorial Rotunda. He looked around but saw no members of the team. The museum was entirely occupied by these soldiers in black armor and others wearing grey uniforms and black military caps who looked like they were in command.

Damian entered the rotunda. He climbed the steps leading to the control room. The Doctor Li was there, next to a man in a grey uniform. He turned to Damian and his jailer. Inside the control room, James and Janice were there, guarded by two of these black armored soldiers.

When he saw his son, James gave him a reassuring smile and nodded slightly his head, meaning that everything would be all right but Damian could see concern in his eyes.

"Sir, we found this man in the basement," said the man's voice through his helmet. "He appears to be paramilitary."

"Thank you, Corporal. Hand over his weapons and leave the prisoner here. The Colonel will take care of them."

The soldier returned to the museum. The officer put Damian's rifle on his back and grabbed his pistol and holster before turning his attention to what was going on inside the control room.

"What's going on?" Damian whispered to Doctor Li.

She was about to answer when they heard the rotunda door open. A man in his fifties, with short grey hair, clean-shaven and wearing a black outfit under a long beige raincoat entered, escorted by two other soldiers in armor. Upon his arrival, the officer and the two soldiers in the control room stood at attention.

He went up the stairs and stopped next to the officer.

"Report, Lieutenant," he said coldly and authoritatively.

"Colonel Autumn, Sir. We have gathered part of the scientific team and this man who appears to be a mercenary. The man in the vault suit is the leader of the project."

The Colonel Autumn looked down briefly at Damian and his Pip-Boy. He ignored Madison Li and turned to his subordinate.

"Tell your men to continue securing the site and keep the prisoners here. I'll interrogate them later."

The officer stood at attention again. Autumn entered the control room. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the two soldiers already present. He turned to James and gave him a condescending look.

"I am Colonel Augustus Autumn of the Enclave. By order of the President, this site, and all personnel attached to it, is now under the authority of the United States Government. Please hand over immediately all documents pertaining to this project."

"That's impossible," replied James. "This is a private project. The Enclave has no rights over it. I am obliged to ask you to leave immediately and to release these people."

The Colonel Autumn remained silent for a moment. He folded his hands behind his back. Damian could not believe his eyes and ears. The Enclave, the mysterious Government he had heard about on the radio from this little flying robot, did exist and it had an army capable of rivaling the Brotherhood of Steel. But why come out of the shadows now and take an interest in Project Purity?

"Sir," Autumn says. "Please hand over the files on that purifier immediately."

"I'm sorry, but..."

"Moreover," continued Autumn, who had not listened to James' objection. "You will help the Enclave science personnel to take control of the administration and implementation of this site."

James took a brief look at Doctor Li and Damian.

"Colonel... Is that "Colonel"? I'm sorry, but this site is not operational and never has been. I'm afraid you and your men are wasting your time."

"Sir, for the last time," replied Autumn with a clenched jaw. "Submit and hand over control of this facility to us."

"Colonel, I can assure you that this site will not work. We've never been able to duplicate the results of our tests and..."

Autumn plunged his hand into his raincoat and pulled out a 10mm polished and glossy pistol. By the time James realized what was happening, Autumn had raised the gun to Janice and pulled the trigger. A loud bang resounded in the rotunda. Janice was jolted as the bullet penetrated her forehead and exploded the back of her skull. She collapsed on her back, blood slowly flowing from the back of her head onto the metal floor.

James looked at the young scientist's dead body, speechless and shocked. Damian felt his jaw drop slightly and heard Madison. Li scream and put her hands in front of her mouth.

The Colonel Autumn then turned his gun on James.

"Give me the papers for this project," Autumn shouted. "Now!"

James raised his hands and nodded. He glanced at his son. Damian thought he saw a nod and a smile. James turned to one of the consoles. He started typing on the keyboard.

"So?" Autumn asked. "I'm waiting"

"Just one more minute."

Damian saw the doors to the control room close, locking his father, Autumn and the two soldiers inside. Immediately afterwards, an explosion sounded in the control room and an alarm began to sound. Damian heard the Geiger counter on his Pip-Boy sizzling. He saw the officer who was watching him jump on the door and try to open it. He jumped on him and grabbed the gun he was carrying on his belt. The officer turned around and found himself facing the barrel of his gun. Damian pulled the trigger. A small fluorescent green projectile spurted out of the gun and pierced the man's face, which turned into a greenish, slimy goo. Damian rushed to the door.

On the other side of the glass, he could see Colonel Autumn writhing in pain on the floor while the two soldiers in armor were convulsing. The Geiger counter on his Pip-Boy started to panic again.

James was on his knees facing the door. He put his hand on the glass and raised his head to his son. Damian started banging his fists against the glass.

"Dad! Dad! Open the fucking door! Dad!"

"Damian...," James managed to say. "You must go, now…"

He grabbed his chest and clenched his jaws and seemed to be in agony.

"Open the fucking door! Dad!"

Damian could feel the tears running down his cheeks. He kept banging on the glass. He felt Doctor Li's hand grab his arm.

"Let go of me!" Damian shouted as he freed himself.

He threw himself to the door, crying and calling for his father.

"Madison...," James whispered. "Get him out of there..."

He started to cough, and a spat of blood came out of his mouth.

"Dad! I'm not leaving without you! Open that fucking door!" kept shouting Damian.

James smiled at his son before collapsing to the ground.

"No! No, no, no, no, no!"

"We have to get out of here now! They're coming for us!" yelled Madison Li.

"I'm not leaving without my father!"

The Doctor Li grabbed Damian's arm and showed him his Pip-Boy.

"There's nothing more you can do for him! Look at your Pip-Boy, the radiation level inside is lethal! If you go in, you'll die, just like him!"

With his hands still tied, Damian raised them to his forehead and shook his head.

"Hurry for God's sake!"

Damian grabbed his assault rifle, pistol, and belt from the body of the Enclave officer and after one last look at his father, got up and followed Doctor Li out of the rotunda.

* * *

**I always found the Enclave arrival at Project Purity was nicely done, witnessing the Vertibird land and the assault troop storming the place. It just felt a little strange that when you walk back to the control room, you just run into 4-5 guys instead of a full assault team. Anyway, hope you enjoyed and untill next time.**


	17. Chapter 17: Escape

**Thank you to the people who have reviewed the story. I know retelling the Fallout 3 story is way more easy than imagining something new, but I try my best to write it in a nice writing style and add a few things here and there to get the story even more interesting. Anyway, enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

Damian closed the rotunda door behind him. The Doctor Li immediately pulled him to the left, towards a manhole cover in the floor. They could hear shouts and footsteps around them. Damian lifted the slab and let Madison Li go down first before he, in turn, rushed into the opening and put the slab back in place.

They climbed down a long metal ladder into an old sewer system. The wide tunnel went down into the depths of the earth. There they found Daniel, Garza and Alex hiding behind a desk. Damian used one of the bars of the ladder to pull on the rusty mesh of his handcuffs. It finally broke and Damian was able to regain full mobility.

"Thank God you're all right," said Alex relieved. "What happened up there, Madison?"

"It's the Enclave, they took over the lab. We have to run away now," said the scientist.

She looked at the three men.

"Are you all right?"

"We're fine," replied Garza. "When we heard the doors explode and saw those guys in power armor coming in, we fled here hoping you could join us."

"What about Anna?" asked Doctor Li. "Do you know where she is?"

"No," said Garza sadly. "She wasn't with us when we saw those guys come in."

"What about Janice? Have you seen her?" Alex asked.

Madison Li looked down and shook her head slowly. An expression of sadness crossed the faces of all three men. Daniel clenched his jaw and began to get angry.

"How did those bastards find out about Project Purity?"

He turned to Damian who was staring at a wall. Daniel approached and stood in front of him.

"I better not find out you or your father sold us out. If you or that son of a bitch has..."

He didn't have time to finish his sentence that Damian punched him in the face. Daniel stumbled and fell on the ground. He straightened his head, ready to fight and received a second punch in the face.

Garza jumped on Damian and restrained him while Alex helped Daniel to get up and pulled him away.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" shouted Daniel, his nose and mouth bleeding.

"My father's dead, you fuckin' bastard!" yelled Damian trying to free himself from Garza. "He sacrificed so that we could escape! I swear that if you dare talk about him like that again, I'll fucking kill you!"

"I... I... God, I didn't know... I... It all happened right after you arrived... So, I thought..."

Daniel looked at Doctor Li who was biting her lips and looking down. Daniel stopped moving and wiped the blood on his face, while apologizing to Damian.

"Damian," Doctor Li said finally. "Daniel couldn't have known about James. We're going to need everybody if we want to get out of here alive."

Damian, still restrained by Garza, stared at Daniel, anger in his eyes.

"We're going to need you, Damian," Doctor Li said to disarm the situation. "We have to stay together. Is that okay?"

Damian sniffed and looked at the tunnel ahead of them. He nodded and Garza let go of him slowly.

"Where are we going?" Damian asked after gathering his weapons.

"This tunnel leads to the Citadel, the Brotherhood stronghold. We should be able to find refuge there, that is, if we make it there."

"What do you mean, '_if we get there'_?" Damian asked.

"The Enclave will surely come after us and God only knows what's living in that tunnel."

"You know where this place leads, but you don't know what we're gonna find along the way?" asked Damian skeptic.

"In one word; Yes. This place has been abandoned for more than twenty years. Anyone and anything could have made this place their home."

Damian looked at the tunnel again and grabbed his assault rifle. He lit his Pip-Boy's lamp and started to move on. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the small group was following him closely.

After a few meters, they came to a large fork in the road. Damian's Geiger counter began to crackle. Fortunately, the path Doctor Li showed him was not radioactive.

The sewers seemed to have been inhabited just after the Great War. Furniture and small wooden and metal plates were scattered everywhere, as well as old lamps connected to fission batteries and human bones were occupying the corners of the tunnel.

Damian led the group to a maintenance tunnel with rows of cables and pipes running along the walls and ceiling. He heard a voice and signaled the others to stop. He recognized the voice. It was the same voice he had heard coming out of those robots flying in the Wasteland, the ones that were broadcasting military march and the voice of the mysterious President Eden.

Damian looked from the corner of the tunnel and saw one of these robots, motionless near a door. The robot turned towards him and a red ray sprang from a small appendix under its shell. The laser beam hit the wall next to Damian, who aimed his rifle and fired a burst towards the exploding machine. The metallic remains fell to the ground while Damian waved to the others to follow him.

He opened the door that the robot was guarding and entered a large room with a deactivated generator and large pipes from which oozed a greenish fluorescent liquid. As he approached, Damian heard his Geiger counter clicking. He got around the strange fluid and walked through the room looking into every nook and cranny, his rifle ready for use, and entered another maintenance tunnel.

The tunnel led to another sewer pipe. Damian stepped back in the maintenance corridor just as another one of those little robots passed by without noticing him or the others. He tilted his head at the edge of the corridor and saw the machine disappear at the corner of the tunnel. Access to the left was render impassable because of a pile of orange and yellow barrels on which the radioactive clover was painted. Damian and the survivors of Project Purity had no choice but to follow the little robot from the Enclave.

The machine was gone. Where it had turned, there was a wide corridor with a closed metal door at the end, connected to a terminal, and another door, wide open, leading to a maintenance room.

"Which way?" Damian asked, looking over his shoulder.

"We have to go through that door," Doctor Li replied, pointing to the large door at the end of the corridor. "When we first left the Memorial the first time, we locked the door behind us, just in case. I can unlock it, but it will take time."

She walked past Damian and as she passed the open door, a laser beam hit the floor at her feet. She stumbled back and ran into Garza who had rushed to help her. Damian knelt and pointed his rifle into the opening. The little robot was in the room, but he wasn't looking in their direction. Moreover, the beam had been on a downward trajectory. Damian looked up and saw a concrete platform at the back of the room, protected by a metallic grille with two soldiers from the Enclave in power armor.

Damian reacted in a split second. He raised his rifle and pulled the trigger. The staccato of his gun echoed through the room and he could feel the stock digging into the hollow of his shoulder as the bullets were ejected from the barrel. The bullets ricocheted off the front of the soldier's armor in small spurts of sparks, until one of the cartridges hit the target and pierced the metal layer. The man collapsed in a scream of pain, while his companion jumped back to get in cover.

Damian pulled his finger from the trigger and leaned himself against the wall.

The cries of the wounded soldier gave way to those of his companion who called for help. The little robot turned around and aimed its laser at the door. Damian noticed that two other Enclave soldiers had just entered and were moving into position behind a door at the other end of the room.

"Doctor Li, we really have to get that door open!" Daniel cried, hiding behind a concrete block and checking his ammunitions.

"I'm doing my best…" answered the scientist.

Damian fired a few rounds of ammunition blindly, more to keep their enemies' heads down than to try to kill them. He heard a metallic squeak and saw the door open.

"Everybody inside!" he yelled.

Damian aimed his weapon at the soldiers in the Enclave and noticed a generator between him and them. He fired a short burst and the generator exploded, creating a cloud of black smoke and throwing metal shrapnel everywhere. Damian and the rest of the survivors walked through the door. On the other side, he closed the door and just before it closed, fired at the terminal on the other side. The door closed with the same metallic squeak. For good measure, he hit the control box with the butt of his gun and disconnected the power cables responsible for the opening.

"That should give us a bit of a head start, but let's not stick around," he said.

The scientists nodded silently, and Damian took the lead. This section of the sewer had suffered small collapses and portions of the drainage tunnel had fallen from the ceiling creating small piles of rubbles. Damian walked forward cautiously, listening for any noise that might indicate the presence of one of these flying robots or the arrival of enemy soldiers.

Suddenly, he heard a scream behind him. He turned around and saw Alex struggling as a skinless hand grabbed his ankle. A ghoul, trapped under a pile of rubbles, had just grabbed him and was visibly trying to knock him down to attack him. Damian ran towards the ghoul and crushed his head under the sole of his boot. The ghoul's skull broke on impact.

"Thank you," said the scientist, freeing his ankle and looking relieved.

A grunt from the depths of the tunnel answered him. Damian turned around and pointed his rifle in the direction of the noise. Nothing. He motioned for the others to follow him, silently. This part of the tunnel had been also been inhabited after the Great War. Tables, beds, everyday objects, everything was gathered here underground to create a living space. Damian didn't know if the people who had lived here had come when the bombs fell or if they had come down much later, to hide from the Super Mutants or Raiders, but he didn't have time to look for an answer. All he cared about was getting out of here alive.

They advanced through the tunnel to a fork in the road. Madison Li pointed the way to Damian. He stopped when he heard the voice of President Eden, but after checking, there was no robot, just an old radio half rusted, surrounded by human remains.

Damian felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his head. He saw the Doctor Li with a worried look in her eyes.

"Something wrong?" Damian asked.

"We've got to stop."

"Stop? You're kidding, right?"

Damian took a quick glance at the rest of the group and saw Garza leaning against a wall, an expression of fatigue and pain on his face. He was sweating and holding his chest.

"Garza has a heart condition. His heart will give out if we don't find medicine."

"Did you notice there's a whole army of guys armed to the teeth on our heels?" Damian cried out.

"I'm not moving until Garza gets his medicine. You must have Stimpaks on you. If you do, I'm asking you to give them to me."

The idea of leaving Garza behind ran through his mind, but the poor guy had no chance of surviving if he stayed here alone. Damian banished the sordid idea from his mind and searched his pockets, convinced he had nothing on him after being searched by the Enclave soldiers. He had left his bag inside Project Purity after they arrived.

"I have nothing on me," Damian admitted. "All my Stimpaks were in my bag."

The Doctor Li bit her lips and looked at Garza.

"I'm not leaving him behind," she said.

Damian ran his hand on his face, thinking rapidly. He looked around and saw an old office chair in a corner. He walked toward it, looked at it and brought it back to the others.

"You think you can transport him on this?" he asked.

"Well," replied Madison Li. "I don't know if that's going to work, but that's all we have."

Garza claimed that he was fine and that he could walk on his own, but the Doctor Li convinced him to sit on the chair, while Alex and Daniel would push him or carry him. It was far from being perfect, and it would slow them down, but it was the only option they had, other than leaving the poor man behind to a certain death. They started to walk again in the corridor. They stumbled across a large room with metal stairs. Damian walked into the room and halfway up, he felt warmth at the top of his skull. A small burning smell emanated from his hair and he turned around to see a soldier from the Enclave in full armor standing on a catwalk behind him. Damian saw the soldier turn his head as Doctor Li and the others entered the room, giving him time to raise his rifle and shoot his assailant. A bullet passed through the helmet's eye patch and the soldier collapsed backwards. Damian felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up when he heard the soldier's horrific scream.

"Hurry! Go to the other side!

He shouted to the other survivors and led them out of the room. Alex and Daniel had all the difficulties in the world to carry Garza on his chair. Damian was looking at the catwalk the soldier had fired from and the opposite end of the room, fearing that other Enclave soldiers would come.

He climbed the stairs and came face to face with yet another soldier. The soldier raised his laser gun to him. As he watched the soldier raise his rifle, Damian was pierced with a strange sensation, as if his stomach had just fallen into a bottomless pit. He waited for the fateful moment when the energy beam would hit him and leave a smoking hole in his chest. Then a feral ghoul came out of nowhere and threw itself on the soldier. Unsettled, he stumbled and fell on his back, taking the ghoul with him. With superhuman strength, the creature began to strike the soldier's head with surprising speed. The helmet broke and Damian heard a hiccup of terror, which was lost in a crack that indicated that the ghoul had just pulverized the skull of its victim.

The creature slowly calmed down and began to plunge its face over what was left of the soldier's head. When the ghoul lifted its head, it revealed a bloody jaw with a piece of flesh hanging from it and what Damian identified as an eye. The ghoul didn't seem interested at Damian, nor to the other survivors, who all looked like they were about to vomit. Damian noticed the soldier's laser gun at his feet and grabbed it. The weapon was lighter than his assault rifle. He noticed a small light gauge with dotted lines, right next to the fusion cell inserted into the weapon. The rifle was loaded and ready for use. A little extra firepower wouldn't make much of a difference if he and the scientists came across a whole squad of Enclave soldiers, but anything that could increase his chances of survival even a little bit was good to take.

Damian signaled the others to move forward. He stood between them and the ghoul, ready to shoot him if the ghoul lost interest in his meal.

The stairs led him to another maintenance tunnel where they would be able to carry Garza more easily. A room on the left that had once been used as a locker room for the city's sewer maintenance workers had been converted into a clinic by the former residents. Damian notified the other to wait while he searched the room. Inside a first aid box, he found some Stimpaks.

"Here, this should help," he said, giving a syringe to Doctor Li.

She nodded her head and walked over to Garza, who, despite his tough guy looks, seemed happy to be able to ease his heart until next time. Damian put the Stimpaks back in his pocket and they continued to move forward.

The maintenance tunnel opened into another sewer pipe.

"This is it, there should be a Brotherhood outpost right at the end of this tunnel, behind this door," Madison Li said.

Daniel, Alex, and Garza passed Damian and rushed to a large steel sliding door where human bones were piling up.

"Open the door! Open up, damn it!"

Daniel yelled at the metal door and banged on it. Several grunts and groans came to them. Ghouls converged on them, probably attracted by the sounds of the shootings and by Daniel who had decided to force the door open.

"Open up! Please!" shouted Alex.

The door slid open and they came across a small sandbag fortification, behind which a Brotherhood soldier in power armor stood guard. Just above him, a pair of automatic turrets watched over the survivors.

"Who the hell are you?" asked the soldier, who did not expect anyone, let alone humans, to knock on the door of his guard post.

No one had time to answer that a succession of grunts resounded right behind them. Frightened, the scientists rushed to the entrance, while feral ghouls began to appear. Damian walked through the door and turned around to see Doctor Li, still in the tunnel. Her foot was stuck in the rib cage of a skeleton and she could not free herself. Damian rushed towards her and, with the stock of his rifle, broke the bones.

"Run!" he shouted to her.

He pushed the scientist forward and they jumped over the little wall of sandbags. Damian felt a burning metal object fall on his head, then a second one and a multitude of others. The automatic turrets had started to fire at the ghouls. He raised his head to see the projectiles cutting through the ranks of the ferals, but barely managing to stop their advance. Twenty, perhaps more, were about to break towards them. Damian saw the image of the Enclave soldier being devoured. He didn't want to meet the same fate. He raised his assault rifle and fired the last remaining cartridges in his magazine. He dropped his weapon and grabbed the laser rifle he had retrieved. The rays spurted out of the barrel as Damian pulled the trigger. The discharges of energy that hit the ghouls, stopped them in their tracks, and resulted in a smoking crater where the ray had hit its target.

One of the rays hit a ghoul on the head and Damian could see its body light up and its skeleton appear, like old pre-war cartoons, before exploding in a sheaf of blood and organs, leaving only a blackened and smoking skeleton where rare pieces of flesh were still hanging.

"Down!"

Damian turned his head and saw the imposing mass of the Brotherhood soldier standing beside him. He heard the lapping of a liquid inside a tank and a great steam of fire appeared before his eyes. The soldier had armed himself with a flamethrower and had just activated it in the direction of the feral ghouls. The mutants engulfed in the flames emitted shrill roars before falling among the other corpses.

The soldier let go of the trigger of his weapon and the fire stream stopped. There were small blazes in the tunnel and entrance where the ghouls had fallen, and a strong smell of burning and overcooked meat filled Damian's nostrils as he looked at the burnt corpses. He looked around and saw that Doctor Li and the others had left.

"You should go back to the surface," said the soldier, putting down his flamethrower and grabbing his rifle.

He entered the tunnel and made sure that all the ghouls were dead and that none were hiding in a corner. Damian holstered his laser rifle and picked up his assault rifle, leaving the soldier alone. The tunnel continued to the right up a small hill and ended after a turn on a ladder. Damian slowly climbed to the surface where a small group of Brotherhood soldiers helped him out before going down to help their comrade.

He had just emerged at the level of the Citadel, just in front of a heavy steel gate connected to a crane. Behind him, he could hear the Potomac and, on the right, the bridge he had taken with his father the day before.

Damian turned towards the Jefferson Memorial. He could see the building surrounded by the Enclave aircrafts, flying over the site in slow motion, landing and unloading their cargo of soldiers before taking off and disappearing into the clouds.

James was still there, dead, locked in the Project Purity control room, surrounded by radiation. Once again he had sacrificed his life's work. He'd rather destroy it than see it fall into the hands of the Enclave. Once again, he had put his son's life before everything else and had made the ultimate sacrifice for himself.

Damian's eyes clouded with tears. He felt his legs shaking and his throat tighten. He put his hand over his face and wept silently. His father's smiling face came back to him. All the good times they had spent together in the Vault, whether it was James' long explanations when Damian asked him about his work, or the exchanges they had about the course of their days. He had finally found him, and immediately after, he had disappeared again, forever.

The sadness and sorrow of his father's death gave way to anger. Damian sniffed loudly and looked up. The anger turned to hatred. He wanted to kill the members of the Enclave. Every one of them. It didn't matter if it was a simple foot soldier, an officer like Autumn or that President Eden, they all deserved to die.

"Lyons!"

Damian was drawn from his murderous impulses by the voice of Doctor Li. The scientist was in front of the heavy steel gate of the Citadel. A soldier in power armor was trying to talk to her, but all Damian could hear was the scientist shouting into an intercom. Damian wiped his face and approached.

"Ma'am, I'm telling you one more time, civilians are..."

"Open the damn door, Lyons! I know you can hear me!" screamed Madison Li, not paying any attention to what the guard was saying.

Her voice echoed through the surrounding buildings before evaporating into thin air. The soldier, a man in his thirties with brown hair, tried to talk to the scientist again when an impressive metallic squeaking sound was heard. The crane had just been activated and the steel cables lifted the heavy door. Small sparks flew from where the door rubbed the metal on the walls and dust and small pieces of concrete fell to the floor.

The door came to rest, revealing a passage. The thick wall of the pre-war building had collapsed and led directly into one of its corridors. Damian stayed a few seconds to observe the different rooms and corridors cut in two. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Doctor Li rushing into the opening and heard the guard sigh.

The passageway ended in front of a concrete wall with a metal door topped by a panel dating from the time when the building was still intact and indicating an exit. Above it, the ceilings and floors of the upper floors were missing, and a large steel plate had been attached. Damian raised his head to look at it and noticed that the symbol of the Brotherhood of Steel was painted all over the surface of the plate.

The door opened onto an inner courtyard. A crowd of people, men and women of various ages came and went. Most wore military uniforms, but Damian noticed some with power armors. Cinderblocks and sandbags, as well as mannequins were scattered in a small area and Damian could see a row of young men and women standing at attention, facing an older man in power armor demonstrating how to handle a laser rifle.

On the other side, Damian could see several soldiers lying on the ground with a rifle aiming at a row of dummies dressed as Super Mutants. On the other side, Damian could see several soldiers lying on the ground with a rifle aiming at a row of dummies dressed as Super Mutants. The back of the yard was occupied by small groups of soldiers practicing hand-to-hand combat or doing push-ups.

The place was a real military base. Damian already knew that the members of the Brotherhood were excellent fighters, although they were not invincible against the Super Mutants, but this vision gave him courage and reinforced his idea that the Enclave would pay off. If Doctor Li had come here, it was because the Brotherhood was ready for war and would come to their aid.

Damian saw a small movement of the crowd and the few discussions that emanated from the soldiers around them or from his fellow misfortunes ceased. An elderly man was walking towards them. Bald, with a wrinkled face and a large white beard, he was wearing a long blue-grey garment down to his ankles, with a large metal belt more decorative than functional. He was also wearing black leather gloves and Damian noticed military boots at his feet. He was accompanied by a small delegation. An elderly man with a bald head, wearing a similar but bright red dress, and a young woman in military fatigues that Damian recognized immediately. Sarah Lyons took a surprised glance at Damian and the rest of the group of survivors and nodded her head to say hello.

The man in the blue dress had such incredible charisma that Damian immediately felt confident. He walked up to the small group that had just entered the Citadel and looked at each of the scientists and Damian with his magnetic blue eyes.

"Madison," he said, looking astonished and looking at Doctor Li. "I'm surprised to see you here. What can the Brotherhood do for you?"

"Stop patronizing me Lyons, you know very well why we're here!" said Madison Li angrily.

Damian noted that the scientist was much more irritable and spoke aggressively to everyone since James' death. He blamed it on seeing two of his close friends die and also almost dying, but he also remembered the look she gave his father when he came to tell him about his G.E.C.K. findings and he began to wonder what could have been between them. On further reflection, he found that she had always been condescending and haughty with everyone except James and, on rare occasions, Garza.

"Project Purity has been invaded and we have nowhere else to go."

Damian felt that she would have preferred to be anywhere else but at the Citadel, but given the circumstances, she was taking it upon herself.

"Yes, I heard about an incident in the vicinity of the Jefferson Memorial," said the old man. "Can you give me more details?"

"Yes," Doctor Li replied, calming down. "It's the Enclave. Their troops have taken control of the laboratory, and James, he..."

She left her sentence hanging. Damian felt his heart grow fonder.

"You've got to do something!" the scientist said.

Lyons nodded imperceptibly.

"What I feared finally happened," he said in an almost inaudible whisper.

He spoke more clearly.

"Madison, I'm really sorry about James, believe me, I'd really like to do something about it."

Damian couldn't believe his ears. Half-worded, the man who was to be the leader of the Brotherhood of Steel had just told them he wasn't going to lift a finger. Damian was starting to feel anger grow inside of him. The Brotherhood, presented as the last hope of Humanity by his father and crumbling under the praise of Three Dogs, was not going to do anything. In other words, James had sacrificed himself and sabotaged Project Purity for nothing.

"Then do something about it!" shouted Doctor Li who took the words out of Damian's mouth. "The purifier is in the hands of the Enclave! James, along with other team members, sacrificed himself for us and Project Purity. If we don't do something about it, then his death will have been for nothing!

"Please, Madison, calm down," said Lyons, raising a hand to get the scientist to stop screaming.

Damian was getting angrier and angrier. The man's detached tone in the face of this event was driving him crazy.

"As tragic and regrettable as James' death is, you know as well as I do, that the purifier doesn't work. It's useless to the Enclave. Maybe it's time to put this whole project behind us."

"No," Madison Li replied shaking her head. "James succeeded. He found a way to make the purifier work! He found the missing puzzle part!"

"He did it?" Lyons asked.

Damian felt that behind this detached tone, Lyons held his father in very high esteem, and under other circumstances he would probably have welcomed such news.

"Does the Enclave know about it?" he asked in a more preoccupied tone.

"No... I don't think they..."

"They know."

Everyone turned to Damian. Madison Li made a horrified expression. Damian noticed that Daniel Agincourt was clenching his jaw, but he did not say anything, remembering the fight they both had.

"You must be James's son," Lyons said, looking straight into Damian's eyes. "I'm deeply sorry for your loss, but if you don't mind me asking, how can you be so adamant?"

"My father... He was on the trail of a pre-war device developed by Vault-Tec, a G.E.C.K., the Garden of Eden Creation Kit.

At these words, Lyons turned to the man in the red dress and the latter nodded his head before heading towards a door leading to the interior of the building. Lyons motioned to Damian to continue.

"My father had found notes on the G.E.C.K., and how it worked. He must have had them with him when..."

The vision of his father, his face distorted by pain, passed before his eyes and Damian felt the tears rising.

"If these guys aren't stupid," he said, swallowing his tears. "They'll probably take the trouble to search a little and even if my father didn't have the papers with him, they'll find them eventually and it won't take them long to make the connection between the G.E.C.K. and the purifier."

Lyons looked preoccupied and combed his beard with his hand.

"We'll see what we can do," he finally said.

"What's all?"

The words had overtaken the thought. Damian stood face to face with Lyons and gave him a look of incomprehension.

"If this project is as important as you say it is, then why don't you send your men to take over the laboratory?"

Lyons listened to him speak without the slightest trace of annoyance as the young man shouted at him and lost his temper. On the contrary, he showed understanding and Damian could also read sadness in his eyes. As impressive as the Brotherhood of Steel was, it was probably totally helpless in the face of an enemy like the Enclave.

"What's the point of my father giving his life if you stay holed up in your fortress while those bastards quietly settle down and start working on the project?"

Damian knew he was going too far and a little voice in his head kept telling him to shut up, but it was stronger than him. He felt the disapproving glances of some soldiers, visibly unhappy to see him talking like that and disrespecting their commander. Only Sarah seemed to agree with him. She smiled at him discreetly before she spoke.

"He's right, Father," she said. "Give the order, and the Pride will attack the Purifier. The Enclave must pay for Professor Franklin's death and for everything else. If we're going to do something, it must be done now."

"You are a Sentinel of our Chapter, Sarah," replied Lyons, looking at her with a smile. "But you are also my daughter, and I will not put you in danger by sending you to face an almost unknown enemy. I am sorry, but my decision is final. The Pride will remain at the Citadel until further notice."

Lyons' tone was authoritative, but it was not the tone of an officer talking to his subordinate. It was the tone of a father addressing his child.

"I understand, Father. Please accept my apologies."

Lyons smiled at his daughter and turned to Doctor Li again.

"Madison, until the situation evolves, you and your staff and James' son are welcome to stay at the Citadel as long as you want."

He waved his hand and two young soldiers in grey military dress approached and guided Doctor Li and her team inside the building. Lyons took one last look at Damian and walked away.

Damian stood alone at the entrance to the courtyard, distraught and lost. He was now alone and without a real purpose. Project Purity would remain inactive as long as the Enclave occupied the site, and its troops would remain in place until the Brotherhood intervened. Damian was trapped. Either way, he needed the help of Lyons' men to find the G.E.C.K. and drive the Enclave troops out of the Jefferson Memorial.

Damian raised his head to the sky. Large dark clouds were coming over them, as if to signify that the near future would be much more difficult now that this new enemy had made its entrance.

* * *

**This closes the "Water of Life" quest. What will happen to Damian? What will the Brotherhood do? Find out next time.**


	18. Chapter 18: The bunker

**Hello everyone, hope you're doing well. Today something a little different in Damian's adventures in the Wasteland. Please enjoy.**

* * *

The man was lying in the middle of the road. He slowly turned his head around and held his hands against his stomach. Behind him he could see a small group of men, wearing black power armor, hiding behind a house and a line of car wrecks. Under their large black helmets masking their faces, they must have been looking anxiously at the surrounding hills and ruined buildings.

The man dropped his head on the cracked asphalt and looked up at the grey sky above him. A dark red, hot, sticky liquid slowly flowed from his belly and began to form a small puddle around him. He opened his mouth and began to call out to the others hidden behind the rusty wreckage.

Damian took his eye out of the scope of his rifle. Crouching near the window of a ruined building, with the muzzle of his gun resting against the ledge, he listened silently to the calls for help and pleas of the Enclave officer he had just shot. A clean shot. A single round lodged in the belly. Damian pulled the bold handle of the rifle and the .308 casing ejected before bouncing off the ground in a slight metallic clink.

He raised his eyes to the sky and after a last look at his victim, put away his belongings and discreetly left the ruined apartment he was in. Night was about to fall, and he had to make a detour to avoid being spotted by the soldiers of the Enclave who were freely patrolling the Capital Wasteland.

About ten days had passed since the Enclave took control of Project Purity and since James' death. Damian had remained at the Citadel with Doctor Li and the other survivors, hoping that the Brotherhood would react and launch the assault on the Jefferson Memorial. Instead, Elder Lyons, the commander of the Brotherhood of Steel, decided to wait and research the G.E.C.K., while interrogating Damian and the survivors to try to learn more about the Enclave. While he was describing to Lyons, Sarah and other Brotherhood officers what he had seen, the Enclave had set up a force field all around the Memorial, making it accessible only by air, and every day the Enclave's flying machines brought equipment and troops to the site.

The _"awakening"_ of the Enclave, as Damian had heard from a Brotherhood soldier, had redrawn the balance of power and the situation in the Wasteland. One of the main consequences of the occupation of the Jefferson Memorial was that Rivet City was almost completely cut off from the world. Small boats crossing the estuary from the South had been targeted and the waters were now frequented only by mutants. On top of that, the Enclave's strategic ability to move through the air with its Vertibirds gave it a significant tactical advantage over the Brotherhood.

Researches on the G.E.C.K. were inconclusive. The only thing the Brotherhood knew was that the G.E.C.K. could create life, even in a completely sterile environment. Lyons was unwilling to engage his troops at the Enclave. The Brotherhood was already struggling to contain the spread of Super Mutants in the D.C. center, and now that the Enclave had come to the forefront, things had become more complicated.

The Brotherhood's only lead was a Vault-Tec computer they had recovered from the company's premises in the heart of Vernon Square a few months ago. Unfortunately, the terminal was quite damaged and most of the files were still impossible to open or read. Lyons had ordered his Scribes, led by a man named Rothchild, the man in the red dress that Damian had seen upon his arrival at the Citadel, to repair and decipher the terminal at all costs. Even an attempt to transfer the files from the computer to Damian's Pip-Boy had failed. A few Brotherhood soldiers then asked permission to accompany Damian to Vernon Square to retrieve another computer but with the disappearance of the recon teams sent there made Lyons reject the idea. The population of Super Mutants in the ruins was still a great threat and there was no doubt that Vernon Square was still as deadly, if not more, since Damian and the Rangers had passed through, and any attempt to enter the neighborhood would turn into a suicide mission.

After five days at the Citadel, which Damian had spent training with Sarah and other Brotherhood recruits, he returned to Megaton. If the Brotherhood wouldn't lift a finger against the Enclave, then he would. On his way back to Megaton, he had discovered through the radio and the accounts of a few travelers that the Enclave had encampments all over the Capital Wasteland. On the radio, Three Dog frequently announced that a small farm had been wiped off the map by an Enclave commando and Damian had seen it for himself when he came across a group of Enclave soldiers in power armor accompanied by a black-painted Protectron, setting fire to a small house and piling the bodies of three ghouls, like Gob or the one in Underworld, in a small pit before burning the corpses with a flamethrower.

In the following days, he had roamed the Wastes in search of some of these camps, moving as far away as possible from Megaton and after locating one, he settled nearby and killed as many soldiers as he could before retreating. Luckily, these camps had only two or three soldiers, six for the largest, allowing Damian to decimate the soldiers and the officer in them.

The latter were surprisingly easy targets. Soldiers were harder to shoot because of their thick power armor, but officers wearing only black caps and grey uniforms were ideal targets. In addition, their tactical and technological superiority over the rest of the Wasteland must have made them a little too confident and arrogant, sometimes making them forget where they were and what dangers might befall them, whether it was a sniper or a mutated animal.

These skirmishes against the Enclave patrols or camps were beginning to draw unwanted attention. Damian had listened to rumors of a mysterious sniper targeting Enclave soldiers and he had decided to stop attacking every camp or patrol he would see.

Damian moved away from the ruins of Fairfax. When Simms had warned him that the ruins were home to a large group of Raiders, he had no idea that they controlled almost every street and building.

Hiding behind a bus stop, Damian watched as a party of Raiders made its way to his former firing point. With any luck, the survivors of the Enclave patrol would also come and see and bump into the Raiders, giving Damian time to get away undetected and perhaps the Enclave would also believe that those responsible for the attacks on their patrols were the Raiders. He let the Raiders walk by and a few second later, heard gunshots. At first, he thought that the Enclave and the Raiders had engaged each other, when he realized that the shots were coming from somewhere else. He shrugged and left.

Damian was almost out of the ruins when his Pip-Boy started making little sounds. He put his hand on the speakers to muffle the noise. He quietly walked away and when he was sure he was safe, checked his little computer.

He had just picked up a radio frequency. He wasn't too surprised, since he had already picked up some strange emissions in the Wasteland. Most of them were just Morse code messages, but the most intriguing had been the one picked up near the Citadel. It was an old clandestine radio station, owned by Communist Chinese insurgents, calling on the American proletariat to revolt against their capitalist oppressors. Today, the pre-recorded message continued to be broadcast, ignoring the fact that social classes had long since disappeared from this planet and that the Communist Revolution against Western imperialism was at the bottom of the list of concerns of the people of the Capital Wasteland.

Damian activated the frequency, believing that it was just another Morse code message from a computer or that a scavenger had accidentally reactivated an old pre-war program while exploring a nearby building.

Noise saturated the Pip-Boy's speakers until a man's voice was heard.

_"To all allied units, this is Defender Morrill. Our position is about to be overrun by Super Mutants in the Bailey's Crossroad sector. We request immediate assistance."_

Behind the voice, Damian could hear gunfire, that would correspond the one he was hearing in the ruins, to the West. He was now sure that the radio frequency was not a pre-war advertisement and did not seem to be the work of a joker.

The transmission cut off for a few seconds and then resumed. The man repeated his message, more nervous and pressing. The rank of _"Defender"_ was unknown to him, and Damian convinced himself that it could not be the Enclave, as they obviously preferred to refer to the old US Army rank system. Only an engaged squad of the Brotherhood remained. The rank of _"Defender"_ sounded no stranger than that of _"Paladin"_ or _"Sentinel"_.

Damian checked his assault rifle and adjusted the strap on his scoped bolt-action rifle and went to the source of the shooting.

The shots came from a place in downtown D.C. Again, the only way to get there was through the metro tunnels and Damian searched for the nearest station. He found a metro exit next to a ruined factory. The metro entrance had collapsed. Shooting intensified on the other side of the buildings.

Damian noticed a door ajar next to the metro entrance, leading in a building. A damaged brown sign indicated that it was a service entrance to the station. Damian turned on the light of his Pip-Boy and pushed the door open with the barrel of his rifle.

He entered the maintenance corridor that went down to the station. The shots were still audible, despite the walls of the station. On the way, Damian realized that he had not been back in downtown D.C. since he had left the Ranger HQ for Rivet City.

The station was destroyed. The tunnels and escalators had collapsed and one of the trains had derailed and crashed into the mezzanine, the only area in the station that was still passable. The bones of the train conductor, probably ejected on impact, were laying against the wall next to the information desk. Damian looked briefly inside, but saw nothing but dust, objects too damaged to be identifiable and some two-century-old remains. He thought of taking one of the maps of D.C. but the decrepit and moldy appearance of the streets, coupled with the fact that most of the streets had become impassable and the surface looked like a vast pile of rubble, made him give up the idea.

Damian walked through the rest of the station and came across the bodies of two feral ghouls. He approached cautiously. The ghouls had recently died, their bodies entangled in what was left of the gate that was used to close the station. The shots came from behind the gate.

Damian climbed the stairs to the surface. At the top, a figure in power-armor took cover behind the edges of the escalator and fired a minigun. A shower of shell casings poured down the steps to Damian's feet. The power amor was identical to that of the Brotherhood, with the difference that it was painted black and that parts had a blood red color. He also wore an insignia like the one of the Brotherhood on his shoulder pad, a gear crossed by a sword.

Another person in power armor stood beside him. He noticed Damian and tapped on his comrade's helmet to draw his attention.

"What the hell...? Can't you see this is a war zone, you idiot!" yelled the man through the speakers of his helmet. "Do you want to die or what? Get back to your dump before..."

He stopped in the middle of his sentence. Damian raised an eyebrow. He recognized the man's voice in the radio call.

The second man in power armor was shot in the head and collapsed on the stairs. Morrill turned around and sent a hail of bullets at a Super Mutant running towards them.

Damian approached the soldier on the ground but found him dead. The shooting ceased and he reached Morrill and looked over the railing of the escalator. The subway entrance opened onto a ruined crossroads. Several destroyed office buildings surrounded the area. The streets were clogged with lines of burnt-out cars and pieces of buildings or the fast voice that ran through the neighborhood.

Morrill sighed through his helmet. He glanced at his dead companion and then turned to Damian again.

"All right, let us resume, shall we? What are you doing here?" asked Morrill.

"I picked up your radio message. Are you Brotherhood?" asked Damian in return.

"You know these filthy traitors?" Morrill said with contempt. "No wonder, that bastard Lyons and his cronies are busier saving this place's yahoos than gathering tech. But... If you'd tell me more about that computer on your wrist."

"That's my Pip-Boy, and no, you're not getting it. Now, if you'd tell me who you are if you're not Brotherhood."

"Relax, I'm not gonna take it from you, but if you follow me back to my base, I'll explain. And I think Protector McGraw would like to have a chat with you.

Damian didn't like that. Still, curiosity compelled him to follow Morrill. The soldier led him through a ruined building. Shredded bodies of Super Mutants and soldiers wearing the same armor as Morrill littered the tiled floor. Morrill proceeded with caution, inspecting every nook and cranny and ordering Damian to keep an eye on the roof.

The building was completely devastated, and Damian repeatedly almost fell through the floor.

"Here we are."

Through one of the destroyed walls, Morrill showed him a steel structure. The steel frame of a building under construction. Installed in a concrete shaft next to a large construction crane. Morrill motioned for Damian to follow him. At the same time, two soldiers in power armor burst into the building.

"Defender Morrill, we heard your radio call and were on our way to..."

They fell silent and stared at Damian. He noted that they lingered on his Pip-Boy and Damian began to regret following Morrill. The Defender glanced over his shoulder before addressing the other soldiers.

"This is a local I found in the ruins. He apparently picked up our message too. I'm taking him to see Protector McGraw."

Morrill and the other two escorted Damian to the construction site, while a group of soldiers in power armor passed them, gun in hand, probably to secure the ruins and retrieve the bodies of their comrades.

The steel girder structure was even more impressive once inside. Morrill and his companions were obviously using it as an outpost. At first, Damian wondered what the strategic importance of such a place was. The building had never been finished and only the metal frame stood in the sky. He understood, when he arrived at the bottom of a small concrete ramp. A red freight elevator led underground and was to lead to a network of pre-war tunnels.

Placed on a series of metal boxes was a military radio, used to communicate with what and who was underground. Morrill stopped in front of the radio and spoke for a few seconds. While talking, he glanced at Damian several times. Damian could feel the inquisitive glances of the soldiers on his back and on his Pip-Boy.

Morrill and Damian took their places in the freight elevator while the other two soldiers went back to their comrades towards the ruined building.

The descent lasted several minutes, during which time Morrill took off his helmet and lit a cigarette. Morrill was an African American man in his thirties with very short black hair.

"Why don't you tell me who you are?" Damian asked to break the silence.

"We call ourselves the Outcast. We were members of the Brotherhood, under Lyons' orders. But Lyons distanced himself from our cause, deciding to put the recovery and preservation of rare technology after the preservation of locals like you. But I don't expect a dirtbag like you to understand.

Damian just grumbled an answer. The attitude of those Outcast was the antithesis of the Brotherhood members. Except for Sarah. Damian still remembered the scornful look she gave him when they met at Chevy Chase and her attitude toward non-Brotherhood recruits.

The elevator came to a standstill in a jolt against a metal door of a similar design to the pre-war installations. The door opened, revealing a half-collapsed room. Pipes and electrical cables were running down the ceiling, supported by aluminum bars.

In the room, two soldiers in power armor were chatting. The one on the right was not wearing his helmet. An African American man, with very short brown hair and a mean look on his face, seemed to be in the middle of a heated discussion with his companion.

He turned his head towards Morrill and Damian. He looked down at Damian's Pip-Boy before turning to Morrill. Morrill nodded his head and crushed his cigarette under his foot.

"You, the local. You keep your gun in its holster, your hands in your pockets and you hold your tongue. Follow me."

He turned around and went through a door in the back of the room. Damian followed him, Morrill on his heels. They went into another empty room under an electric turbine. A railing overlooked the back of the room and served as a firing post for security turrets and two soldiers.

The section of the tunnel where the man led Damian pointed to the rest of the site. Cleaner, well-lit, with white walls and a small path of yellow tiled slabs on the floor. Several barred windows overlooked storage rooms and white painted metal doors probably leading to tunnels, stairs or other rooms.

The man led Damian deeper into the bunker. The facility had clearly been built by the officials before the Great War, but Damian did not know for what purpose. Military bases were usually located outside the cities and only the main command posts like the Pentagon were close to the ruins and had been the main target of Chinese nuclear strikes during the Great War. This place seemed to have been spared this fate.

Damian arrived at a fork in the tunnel. On the left, a large gate connected to a terminal was guarded by two men in power armor. On the floor, several electrical cables ran from a large generator to the right, to a small, poorly lit room. Damian managed to distinguish a big oval shape in the room. The cables would run around the oval thing and disappear elsewhere in the room.

Damian heard the man clear his throat and saw that he was giving him a menacing look. Damian followed him to a room full of computer consoles, tables and shelves where piles of files, miscellaneous objects, firearms being repaired, and pieces of armor were piled up.

The man in power armor stopped in front of another, brown, military cut, with a small goatee. He, too, was wearing power armor and was reading what looked like a report. When he heard Damian and the others arrive, he looked up from his file. He looked at Damian and frowned. He looked more surprised than annoyed to see a stranger in the bunker. Unlike the other members of the Outcasts, who had been saying downgrading things to Damian.

"Protector McGraw," said the man escorting Damian. "This is the local that Morrill recovered from the ruins."

McGraw looked down on Damian's Pip-Boy. He nodded.

"All right. Thank you, Morrill, you're dismissed."

Morrill stood at attention and left the room. The second soldier took a few steps away and stood behind Damian, laying his hand on a laser pistol hanging from his belt.

"Well, what do we have here?" McGraw said, dropping his report on the table next to him.

He inspected Damian from head to toe and lingered again on his Pip-Boy.

"To be honest with you, the only thing I'm willing to entrust to the hillbillies of this region is to polish my armor... And that would be too much of an honor for them."

He grabbed a cigarette and offered one to Damian, who declined.

"But you," McGraw continued, blowing the smoke from his cigarette. "You've got that little computer on your wrist, and I think you'll be very useful to us."

"So, my Pip-Boy makes me unique, and you need it to...?"

A slight smirk appeared on McGraw's face.

"You're not as dumb as the other locals of the Capital Wasteland, I'll grant you that. Now, to put it simply, I need you and your Pip-Boy. If you help us, we'll see what we can do to help you in return."

Damian noticed that McGraw was from time to time looking at the man behind him. Damian looked briefly over his shoulder. The man didn't seem to agree with McGraw, and his looked could kill, his stare would have already sent McGraw to his grave.

"What kind of help are we talking about?" Damian asked.

McGraw dropped the ashes from his cigarette butt with a flick of his finger into an overflowing ashtray. He then pointed to the hallway.

"You probably noticed this big blast door on your way in, didn't you?"

Damian nodded his head.

"As far as we know, this facility houses important military-grade technology. The kind of equipment we are charged with recovering and preserving. The problem is, they're behind that door and it's impossible to open it, let alone blow it up. If you help us open the door, we'll let you have some of the tech that's inside."

Damian heard the man behind him groan.

"I still don't see how my Pip-Boy can help you," Damian said crossing his arms.

McGraw pointed to the corridor again.

"This facility also houses a virtual simulation program, and we're pretty sure that whoever manages to complete the program will be able to unlock the door. Don't ask me why, but the program requires a special interface in order to work. We don't have one, but you do."

Damian turned the screen of his Pip-Boy towards him and looked down at the little computer. When he heard the word _"simulation"_, he automatically thought of Braun and Vault 112 and felt a shiver run down his spine.

"I would like you to enter the simulator and complete the program. Once the door is open, you take your share, and everyone will go on with their lives."

"What kind of simulation are we talking about?" Damian asked nervously.

"The liberation of Anchorage, Alaska, from the Chinese Communists. An important page in this country History according to our Scribe."

McGraw noticed that Damian looked strangely relieved and raised an eyebrow.

"So, I'm gonna have to play soldier in hope of opening the door? Is that what this is?"

"Absolutely. The simulation was set up to replicate infantry combat on the front lines and prepare soldiers for their departure for the front lines. But it doesn't have any safety protocols."

"So, if I die in the simulation... I die in real life."

McGraw nodded slowly.

"Cardiac arrest. Look, I'd understand if you'd refuse to do this. If that's the case, you can leave, but..."

Damian looked over his shoulder. He saw the man ready to stand in his way if he tried to leave.

"... These technologies have been dormant here for too long and we might not have another opportunity to open this door."

Damian began to think. He could try to leave the bunker in a fight, but he probably wouldn't be able to stand up to the Outcasts soldiers and the bunker security system, and the idea of having to face a computer program that could kill him and return to a capsule like the one in Vault 112 was just as risky. However, McGraw's mention of these military-style technologies intrigued him. The Outcast did not know what was behind the bunker door and the possibility of finding something to fight the Enclave or getting information about it, no matter how small, was worth the risk. The Enclave prided itself on being the descendants of the United States Government and military. A pre-war bunker probably contained information that would prove useful to Damian, if he survived the simulation.

"If I open that door for you, will you make sure I can take a piece of the material from there?"

"I promise you," McGraw says.

Damian nodded his head, thereby signing the agreement between him and the Outcast.

"Sibley," McGraw said to the soldier behind Damian. "Take him to the sim pod and have Olin brief him."

The man grabbed Damian by the arm and forced him to follow him. They walked to the small dark room containing the oval object Damian had seen earlier. Sitting in the back next to a computer console, a blonde woman in a black Brotherhood scribe's robe, turning her back on them.

"Knock, knock, Olin," Sibley said mockingly. "I bring you someone you'll like."

The woman turned around. After giving the soldier a scornful glance, she looked at Damian, giving him a look of disgust. She got up from her chair and looked at Damian in more detail.

"Try not to damage him like the last one," Sibley laughed as he walked away.

The woman gritted her teeth and kept her answer for her. She watched Sibley leave the room and turned to Damian.

"If you're here to help, put this on and get in the sim pod."

She gave Damian a white suit, with ports for connecting electrical wires or medical hoses.

"What did your friend mean by _'like the last one'_?"

The scribe sighed and left the room. She called out to Damian, who met her in front of a metal door next to the simulator room. Olin unlocked the door. It was a small room used for storage. In the center was an overturned chair surrounded by a pool of blood. Tools and a bloody saw were lying on a table with the body of a man in a vault suit on the floor.

Damian took a step back. The suit had the number _"108"_ on the back and the body's left arm had been ripped off at the elbow.

"We found this guy wandering around the ruins. We tried to get him to participate willingly, but he just yelled at us and said _"Gary! Gary!"_ over and over again. We tried to take his Pip-Boy but... It didn't go as planned.

"What did you do to him?" Damian asked, who couldn't help but massage his left arm.

"It doesn't matter. He's dead now. Now it's up to you to enter this simulation and open the door for us."

Olin left the room and turned her back on Damian, letting him change. He put his armor next to his bag and put on the suit. It stuck to his skin and he felt as if he was suffocating inside. He grabbed his things and made a mental list of what he had in his bag. If the Outcast had the idea to steal something from him, he would automatically know. He regretted more and more his decision of following Morrill to the bunker, but it was too late to turn back. Moreover, the Outcast could also do the same to him as they did to this vault resident.

He joined Olin in the corridor, and they returned to the pod. The pod looked like a giant egg. Made of metal and resting on a base, its shape resembled the capsules of Vault 112, except it had no glass allowing to keep an eye on the pod user.

Olin activated one of the computer controls on the large console at the back of the room. The top of the capsule split in two and slid towards the base, revealing a black seat. Damian looked at Olin, who motioned for him to take his seat. Damian put his belongings in a corner of the room and climbed inside the pod. Olin approached and plugged a bunch of cable into his suit.

The scribe plugged in the rest of the cables and checked that everything was in order. The Outcast members had gathered at the entrance of the simulation room. McGraw gave Damian a nervous look.

"Good luck." He said.

The pod closed on Damian, putting him him into total darkness. After a few seconds, the inside of the pod lit up in white and blue. Small squares began to appear on the inside wall of the pod and scrolled faster and faster. Damian saw several shapes appear before his eyes until the light became too intense and forced him to close his eyes.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed. We just started the Operation Anchorage DLC. Let's see how Damian will handle the simulation and the ruthless trench warfare of Alalka. Untill next time and thanks for reading.**


	19. Chapter 19: The Devil's Symphony

**The simulation just begun. Please enjoy.**

* * *

Damian opened his eyes. The bright blur he had before his eyes faded and gave way to a grey sky and a mountain clifftop, battered by the winds. Small white stars swirled in the wind and fell on and around him. Damian felt something icy beneath him. His hands sank into a strange, cold material. He straightened up and noticed that he was lying on the ground, on a cliff.

In the distance, towering white mountains stretched as far as the eye could see. Damian looked at his feet. He wore a gray and white military outfit, similar to his Ranger armor. He also wore a pair of leather gloves and felt a heavy object on his head. A US Army helmet also painted grey.

All around him was snow. Damian took off one of his gloves and reached out his hand. He felt the flakes land and melt on the palm of his hand.

The simulation was more real than life. Much more advanced than the one Braun used. He didn't have that hideous sepia tint in front of his eyes and he could feel everything, from the snow beneath his feet to the wind on his face to the bitter cold that gripped him.

He looked around him. He was afraid to see Betty's face or to hear over the howling wind, Braun's voice and his strong German accent. There was no little girl on the horizon, only a mountainous landscape, covered with snow and whipped by gusts of wind.

Behind him he could see a river and a snow-covered forest at the foot of a mountain. Not far from him, clinging to a rock, the grey and beige cloth of a parachute was undulating in the wind.

Suddenly Damian saw it, motionless. A human head, staring at him with a piercing gaze. The head floated in the void and approached him. Damian moved backwards and felt as if his entrails had just fallen into a bottomless pit.

The head approached him, and it was then that Damian noticed that it was resting on the body of a man wearing the same armor as him. If the man hadn't had his face uncovered, Damian would never have noticed him, as the camouflage of the armor blended perfectly into the landscape.

The man, in his forties, with short brown hair and a close shave, approached Damian and looked at him from head to toe. He seemed relieved and smiled at him.

"Hell of a nasty fall that you took. When your parachute bunched up like that, I thought you were a goner."

He turned to the cliffs, mumbling something about other paratroopers.

"You still got your gear?" he asked.

Damian looked down at his belt. He had a holster with a 10mm pistol, and he was carrying a gray pouch. He looked inside and saw what looked like three satchel charges. He also noticed a knife hanging from his thigh. The blade was long and serrated, and the handle had a steel-tipped guard. The weapon could be used as a conventional knife or as a knuckle-duster. In either case, the result would probably be the same and very unpleasant for the victim.

"Well," said the soldier. "Your move. You can be discreet, or you can go loud, but in either case, be careful. Reds take no prisoners. We'll meet at the rendez-vous point, inside the bunker. Then we're gonna blow up those cannons."

The soldier had just finished his sentence, that Damian heard a detonation in the distance, followed by two others. A distant artillery shot. Each cannon shot thundered at regular intervals. The infernal beat for a diabolical symphony that was to be played somewhere on a battlefield ravaged and transformed into a lunar landscape by the shells.

There was no time to answer or ask the slightest question as the soldier rushed away and began to climb the cliff with great ease. Damian watched him climb and jump from one hold to the next until the soldier disappeared at the top.

Damian looked around him. He sighed and began to follow the small cliffside path in front of him. He hadn't really had time to think about it when he was in the Tranquility Lane simulation, but he had to recognize that seeing and feeling his body move in a computer-generated, real-life environment and feeling the cold, wind and altitude, when he knew his body and brain were sitting in a chair staring at a screen, was both impressive and disturbing.

He wondered how many young men and women had sat in that same chair, whether it was to prepare to go to the front or to give the Outcast access to these mysterious technologies.

He arrived at a series of structures, built right on the cliff. The roofs of some of these structures served as ramps to advance over the cliff. They were reinforced with sandbags and wooden and metal crates.

Damian leaned against the cliff when he saw the silhouette of a man. He wore a suit with grey and olive camouflage patterns, a leather belt, black boots and a grey and black woolen uschanka. On the front, a red star set with a golden laurel wreath contrasted sharply and highlighted the Chinese flag sewn on his chest and the red star on the collar of his suit.

His face was masked under a white hood and a large pair of glasses. The soldier stopped at the edge of the cliff and contemplated the landscape, flicking his fingers on the handle and grip of his brand new-looking assault rifle.

Damian drew his pistol and noticed that it was equipped with a silencer. He pointed the gun at the soldier. Damian pulled the trigger. He felt the recoil of his gun as if it were a real one. The bullet lodged between the soldier's shoulder blades. The soldier hiccupped in pain and fell from the cliff.

Just before he fell, a strange thing happened. His corpse lit up with a sparkling blue beam and disappeared. Damian rubbed his eyes, thinking it was a side effect of the simulation. The body had fallen off the cliff and the wind was blowing too strong to get close and check.

Damian continued to follow the small path and crouched behind a rocky recess. A succession of footbridges led to the other side of the cliff. The rock walls had been built to provide bunkers and maintenance rooms for pipelines and shelter from the harsh Alaskan elements.

A metal staircase led to the roof of another of these bunkers. At the top, sitting on a chair and facing the stairs was another Chinese soldier. He got up and started walking down the stairs, speaking in a language Damian did not understand. The soldier pulled the breech of his rifle and spoke again. Damian jumped from behind his cover and shot him. The soldier collapsed forward and just before he hit the ground, his body lit up blue and evaporated, leaving only a few splashes of blood where the body should have been.

Was this a flaw in the simulation? Or did the computer choose to remove what was no longer considered alive in its program?

Damian suddenly noticed something in his peripheral vision. He turned his head, but the thing moved at the same time. He stood still and shifted his gaze to what he was seeing. In the lower right corner of his vision he could see, as written on his retina, a series of numbers, indicating _"10/48"_, right next to the small image of a 10mm pistol. Just below it, he noticed a knife icon. As he looked at the icons, they became bigger so that it was easier to see read them.

Damian looked around him, looking for the silhouettes of Chinese soldiers. Seeing no one, he put away his pistol. The numbers remained in place, but he noticed that they were a little less visible. He grabbed his knife and automatically the numbers disappeared, and the knife icon replaced them.

He took his knife in his other hand and drew his gun again. The numbers appeared again, right next to the knife icon. This was the indication of his ammunition. A standard 10mm N99 10mm pistol had a capacity of 12 rounds per magazine, 13 if reloaded before the gun was completely empty and keeping one bullet in the barrel.

Damian did a quick calculation. Four magazines, five counting the one in his gun. It wouldn't be enough if he was noticed by the Chinese soldiers and he hoped that the simulation would provide him with another weapon quickly.

This reminder of how much ammunition he was carrying was quite nice, although unrealistic, but Damian had gotten into the habit of counting each round fired and automatically subtracting it from the total he had on him.

He continued to advance, glaring nervously up the cliff tops and bunkers. He arrived in front of the large footbridge, supported by cables, which allowed him to cross the cliffs. The metal structure swayed gently, despite the strong gusts of wind.

Damian wiped away the snowflakes that stuck in front of his eyes. He approached the bridge and looked down below. The void was steep for a good hundred meters before ending on a rocky ground partially covered with snow.

Damian took a deep breath and started walking on the bridge. The metal creaked under his weight and the wind whipped his face. Halfway there, he noticed a Chinese soldier on the other side of the cliff. The soldier raised his rifle, but Damian was faster and fired three shots. The soldier collapsed and his body evaporated like the others.

After checking that the way was clear, Damian resumed his ascent of the metal catwalks. Although it was a simulation, he felt every step and the effort he had to make to climb them was real. As he turned to look back to see how far he had come, he saw two Chinese soldiers crossing the bridge.

Damian pressed forward. He went past a bunker and leaned against the concrete wall. He couldn't hear anything with the wind and ventured to look. The two soldiers were only a few meters away from him and had stopped for a cigarette. Damian quickly checked the number of cartridges remaining in his magazine and eliminated the two soldiers.

The simulation was very realistic, too realistic in some ways, but Damian consoled himself by thinking that a real experience on a battlefield like this would be traumatic and wondered what the simulation might hold for him, if its purpose was to prepare the soldiers for this conflict.

As he turned around, he noticed a small sandbag wall facing the path across the cliff. A sniper rifle was placed on it and next to it, on a wooden box, an anti-personnel mine.

The rifle began to glow red as Damian approached it. He picked up the rifle and although he had never handled this model and had only seen it once in the hands of Colvin and a few Brotherhood soldiers, he knew instantly how to use it. The numbers indicating the rounds in his pistol changed like in an old digital clock and displayed the cartridges available for the rifle. Similarly, when Damian took the gun in his hands, an arrow indicated the name and some technical specifications of the gun. A DKS-501 sniper rifle chambered in .308 rounds.

The only available path was through a small metal shelter. The walls still bore traces of film and pinup posters or an American propaganda poster. The Chinese had stuck posters on top of them, depicting an Asian soldier wearing a beige suit, an ushanka and a rifle, and a message written in Chinese.

The Chinese had also appropriated the place by using it as a relaxation area, with a bed, a coffee machine, a table and a chair for eating. Damian saw an assault rifle on the table, which glowed red as he approached. A Chinese assault rifle called the Type 93. He had seen it in the hands of some Super Mutants before and it was Simms and Donovan's favorite weapon.

In one corner, Damian noticed a strange machine. It was also glowing red. Next to it, two other antipersonnel mines were laid on a table, as well as two grenades. Damian tied the grenades to his belt but could only take one of the mines. He turned to the strange machine. He reached for his hand and when he touched the machine, a message appeared in front of his eyes telling him that his ammunition stock was full. He drew his pistol and saw that the cartridges he had fired had miraculously reappeared.

He felt something pass in front of his face and a spark flew from the wall next to him. Damian stumbled back and held his assault rifle against him. He leaned against the wall and looked through one of the slits in the window.

On a large pipeline, two Chinese soldiers were running towards him and a third was shooting at him. Damian fired blindly. One of the soldiers slipped on the frozen metal and fell into the void. The second soldier came to the side of the cliff. He burst into the shelter, shouting in Chinese. Damian fired a burst in his direction and the soldier swung back before evaporating. Damian straightened up and fired another burst towards the last Chinese soldier who was trying to cross the pipeline. His body fell into the void and disappeared before hitting the ground.

Damian exhaled and looked out the window. Nothing moved except the snow in the wind. Damian left the shelter and walked over the pipeline. A collapsed footbridge lay over it and led to another bunker.

Damian managed to climb on the bunker linked to his side of the collapsed footbridge but found nothing except a Stealth Boy. He had already retrieved one from the Museum of Technology but had never used it. When he picked it up, a message appeared before his eyes to use the device.

While he was reading, Damian saw movement on the other side of the cliff. High up on one of the many concrete structures that dotted the crevasse, two Chinese soldiers were inspecting the area. Damian hid behind a pile of wooden boxes. He watched the Chinese soldiers who did not seem to be willing to move.

The simulation was not going to let him continue so easily and unlike Damian, the soldiers generated by the simulation did not feel the cold. Damian grabbed the sniper rifle he had picked up. He placed the first soldier in his sights. He was about to fire but hesitated at the last moment.

He remembered the discussion with Stockholm, Megaton's sniper. The sniper had quickly explained the disadvantages of long-range shooting. Gravity, force and direction of the wind. He didn't know if the simulation took all these factors into account, but since he was able to feel the freezing cold of Alaska, there was a good chance it would. Shooting at an Enclave officer who appeared to be strutting around in the Capital Wasteland was one thing, shooting at an enemy soldier in a windswept environment was another.

Damian lowered his weapon and began observing the area, wondering how he could cross undetected. He grabbed the Stealth Boy he had dropped. The message appeared again.

To use it, Damian had to place it on his wrist, press a button and the device would do the rest.

"Well, I don't really have a choice anyway," Damian mumbled, tying the device to his wrist.

He pressed the button on the Stealth Boy and heard a strange noise. He looked around and didn't see anything abnormal. He understood as he tried to look at his hands and the rest of his body. He had become invisible, well, by invisible it meant that he could see through his body as if he wasn't physically present, but if he paid attention, he could see the contours of his body. Even the rifle in his hands was affected by the field of invisibility.

After a last glance at the Chinese soldiers, Damian climbed down the collapsed footbridge and started to walk on the large pipeline that ran through the crevasse. The metal was covered with a thin layer of ice and Damian walked carefully so as not to end up a hundred meters lower, wondering if in the event of a fall he would be allowed to die before hitting the ground.

He cast nervous glances at the Chinese soldiers who continued to scan the crevasse. When he arrived on the other side, he took a small rocky pass on the cliff side and climbed a series of stairs and finally arrived behind the two Chinese soldiers. Damian took cover behind some crates and eliminated the two soldiers with his silenced pistol.

He didn't know how the simulation program would react if he was spotted. Would he have to face a horde of enemy soldiers who would hunt him down until he was eliminated, or would he be able to keep moving forward without being worried. The appearance of the last two soldiers could be due to the computer's response to the shooting, but it could also be a pre-programmed event to observe the subject's reaction while immersed in the simulation.

A little further down the crevasse, other bunkers had been built, connected by a large pipeline on which several Chinese soldiers were patrolling. The only apparent way to go around was through a passage inside the mountain.

Damian shivered. It was as cold outside as it was inside, but he was relieved that he no longer had to feel the bite of the wind on his face. As far as he could remember, he had never been so cold, except perhaps when the heating in the Vault broke down when he was twelve years old.

The effects of his Stealth Boy were still active, so he moved faster. He walked through a metal corridor that was used to store wooden crates, probably containing ammunition or food. The walls here, too, were strewn with American propaganda posters replaced by Chinese army posters.

The corridor gave way to a tunnel dug in the rock. As he entered it, Damian heard shots fired nearby, right in front of him. He pressed himself against the rock, convinced that he had been spotted. Realizing that he was not the target of the shots, he continued to move forward until he reached a natural formation in the mountain. The cave was probably about ten meters long and nine meters wide, and was also about a dozen meters high. At the top, an opening let the daylight through and from this opening also hung a parachute cloth and its harness, still attached to its former owner.

On closer inspection, Damian realized that it was a man, about as old as he was and wearing a US Army winter uniform. The young soldier wiggled on his harness to reach the knife at his ankle. Another shot rang out against the walls. As Damian got a little closer, he saw two Chinese soldiers standing under the American paratrooper. They took turns aiming their rifles and firing at the soldier. One of them finally shot him and the paratrooper's body was shaken with a spasm before hanging gently, still hooked to his harness.

One of the Chinese soldiers went into a tunnel while the other went deeper into the cave. Damian reached the cave and looked up at the hanged man. This scene, most likely programmed by the simulation, was probably supposed to arouse the simulation subject a desire for revenge and murder against the enemy soldiers, showing them as ruthless monsters doing target practice at living soldiers unable to fight back. At another time, Damian might have been revolted by this spectacle, but he had unfortunately seen much more ignoble things in the Wastes, to care about the possible atrocities committed during a war that ended more than two centuries ago and was represented in the form of computer programs.

The Chinese soldier stood in front of a table in a dead-end tunnel and placed new cartridges in an empty magazine. Next to him was this strange device that folded Damian's ammunition as if by magic. Mechanically, Damian raised his pistol and placed a bullet in the back of the soldier's skull that evaporated in a blue light.

The simulation was made with the aim of turning the pre-war American citizen preparing to go to the front line into a war machine. Within a second, Damian realized that although he didn't enter the simulation for that, he didn't need a computer program to teach him how to kill.

Nor had he become one of those war machines from the pre-war movies, where the hero was able to eliminate entire groups of enemies without suffering a single injury. He had just assimilated killing another man or mutant creature as a necessary mean to survive in the Wasteland and hope to live another day. His lack of hesitation in shooting the Chinese soldiers in the simulation scared him a little. He knew they were a pile of computer data and that their goal was to kill him, so he continued his relentless struggle for survival, the depressing brown setting of the Capital Wasteland momentarily changed into a frozen mountain. But deep down, he feared that one day he would get used to it, that he would no longer feel anything about taking a life and, worse, that he would start to enjoy it.

Damian shook his head to drive these morbid thoughts out of his mind and headed for the ammunition dispenser. As he walked away, he noticed that the corpse of the paratrooper had disappeared. On the ground, where the body should have fallen, Damian noticed a weapon, glowing red. Damian had never seen this kind of gun before. He holstered his pistol and grabbed the gun in his hands. Immediately, the invisibility field of his Stealth Boy enveloped the gun, making it impossible to see. However, the name and characteristics of the weapon were displayed. The weapon was called a Gauss rifle and used microfusion cells, like a laser rifle, with the difference that the weapon did not fire a beam of energy but small 2mm electromagnetic cartridges, that looked like metallic marbles, placed in the magazine on the right. Damian put the weapon down and started to look at it more closely.

The weapon did indeed look like a rifle. A wooden stock, a metal body and a scope. The barrel was surrounded by several metal circles. On the right side was the magazine for the 2mm EC and a crank handle. On the left side, a slot to introduce standard microfusion cells.

With his assault rifle and sniper rifle, he was starting to get a bit overweight, carrying all these weapons. With difficulty, because of the invisibility field, he adjusted the strap of his new weapon and placed it in his back. He wanted to remove the silencer from his pistol and place it on his assault rifle but was unable to do so. With the Chinese assault rifle in one hand and the 10mm pistol in the other, Damian went deeper into the cave.

He avoided or eliminated the Chinese soldiers he passed until he entered a bunker. He climbed a staircase and arrived in a room occupied by a generator. Only one Chinese soldier was there. Damian heard a faint crackling sound and the invisibility field of his Pip-Boy was deactivated. The Chinese soldier turned towards him.

Just as he was about to raise his rifle, a trap door opened just above him and two hands came out of it, grabbing the soldier by the head. Damian heard an unpleasant cracking sound and the body of the Chinese soldier collapsed, his neck broken.

A man came out of the trap door, leading to an air duct, and Damian recognized the American soldier from the beginning of the simulation. The soldier looked around before approaching Damian.

"Glad you're still with us. This place is crawling with Reds. I almost didn't make it."

Aware that this was also a program of the simulation, Damian did not engage in the same pointless discussion he had had with the unfortunate occupants of Tranquility Lane and just nodded at the soldier.

"I've got your back," said the soldier.

They made their way to a door and arrived outside the bunker. A gust of wind hit Damian in the face, and he retreated until he hit his companion.

"Careful near the ledges, that's a long fall," said the soldier, looking nervous.

Damian took a deep breath and advanced cautiously. Several meters below, he could see the path he had taken. Directly beneath their feet, a pipeline ran through the mountain and crossed the crevasse and headed towards another bunker.

Damian and the soldier advanced along the cliff, using the old metal footbridges. Three Chinese soldiers stood guard. Taken by surprise, they posed no problem for Damian and his companion.

If he listened carefully, Damian could still hear the relentless beat of the artillery fire. The detonations came from the left, behind the mountain. On his right was the bunker and the pipeline. He decided to explore the small bunker.

"Do you intend to cross the pipeline?" the soldier's voice said behind his back.

Damian didn't answer. He didn't feel like talking to a computer. The bunker wasn't very interesting. A small room used as a radio outpost, with a computer, a briefcase and a holotape on a table. All three objects were flashing red. Damian touched the case and it disappeared before his eyes, as if it was a projection. In one corner of his vision, Damian could read a message congratulating him for finding enemy intelligence. It was certainly a side mission, given to the subjects of the simulation, perhaps to note them at the end or to observe their reaction.

The tape started automatically when Damian touched it and he heard the voice of a man, posing as a soldier of the US Army, talking about the attack on the mountain outpost where Damian was now. The computer simply contained a translated version of a report of the Chinese troops occupying the place. Damian wondered whether all these notes were real messages and audio diaries from soldiers who had been involved in the conflict, or whether they were written messages specifically for the simulation.

Damian and the soldier returned outside and continued their climb up the cliff. Along the way, they met some enemy soldiers who were quickly eliminated. Damian could feel the weight of his two rifles on his back and was beginning to have trouble walking.

"It's over there," the soldier said, pointing to a shelter built in the mountain. "I don't know what these bastards have planned for us, so be careful."

In front of them was a bunker. The corridor they stood in, led them to a bridge, crossing a large crevasse and allowing them to reach the artillery outpost. Damian got as close as possible and he could see that the entrance was guarded by two pillboxes.

Passing through there was impossible. Damian noticed a door next to them. He pointed to the door and the soldier looked in his direction.

"We should be able to get around the Reds through the caves," nodded the soldier.

The cave was an exact replica of the one where Damian had recovered the Gauss rifle. They went through it after eliminating the Chinese soldier guarding the place. A staircase led them outside. In front of them was the footbridge they should have taken, still closely guarded.

Damian crawled to a sandbag wall. Slowly he raised his head and observed the area. In the pillboxes guarding the entrance, Damian counted four Chinese soldiers. He grabbed his sniper rifle and put the Gauss rifle beside him.

It was impossible to get through unnoticed. He leaned against the sandbag wall and aimed his rifle. One of the pillboxes was on the same height as them. An automatic turret scanned the area through the opening in the structure. The model resembled the one Damian had encountered on the metro on his way to the Mall from Galaxy News Radio. If he destroyed the terminal, the turret could deactivate or go crazy and eliminate the Chinese soldiers for him. But the simulation had to be able to take that into account.

He placed the terminal in his scope and fired. The terminal exploded, but Damian heard no other shots. He tilted his sights to the inside of the bunker. The turret had deactivated, and the Chinese soldiers were looking around, scanning the area.

He heard a curse and a series of shots rang out right next to him. The soldier accompanying him had just opened fire on the other soldiers coming out of the second pillbox.

The shooting only lasted a few moments. Damian and the soldier went down a metal staircase into the cliff. All the Chinese soldiers were dead, as they had strangely decided to run at their assailants rather than stay in the pillboxes where they would be in cover.

The main bunker was built in the mountain and the entrance was reinforced by a wall of sandbags. A double red armored door was used to enter the building.

"Let's blow up those cannons and kill any Commies that get in our way," said the soldier while reloading his assault rifle.

Damian checked the ammunition indicator for his assault rifle and pistol. He dropped his sniper rifle and placed the Gauss rifle in his back before pushing the heavy armored door into the artillery bunker.

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**Hope you enjoyed. The simulation is basically a video game inside a video game. That's why I thought it would be a nice touch to add the Fallout 3 HUD as part of the story. Until next time.**


	20. Chapter 20: The Mountain Kings

**Hope you are enjoying the story so far. Just to makes things straight, I have no military experience in any form. I did try to enlist and I went throught physical training and medical examination and stuff in an army base, but I would not call that experience. I know a few things about weapons and military terms, but knowing it from games like ArmA, books or movie does not make you an expert. That is to say that there will surely be (I'm sure there is some already) languages and terms mistakes regarding military stuff, weapons, etc... and I apologize to those of you who have military experience and will (probably) cringe reading my mistakes.**

**Anyway, enjoy this chapter and if you have any remarks, do not hesitate.**

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The artillery outpost had been dug inside the mountain. Some of the walls were insulated with a large concrete and metal slab while other portions were made of rough stone. Damian and the soldier had just entered a room used as a warehouse. Several containers piled up in a corner of the bunker and stairs led up to the rest of the outpost.

There was a good chance that the shooting outside had alerted the Chinese soldiers, and although the simulation did not take this into account, Damian decided to play it safe. Moreover, he couldn't see how he could get through the bunker without being noticed.

As if to confirm his fears, Damian heard footsteps on one of the catwalks above him. He looked up and saw a Chinese soldier running towards them. The Chinese soldier shouted and aimed his rifle towards them. The American soldier was faster than him and fired a burst in his direction. Hit in the chest, the Chinese soldier collapsed backwards, pulling the trigger of his gun as he fell. A second Chinese soldier appeared and was immediately eliminated.

Silence fell again, quickly broken by a series of jolts and detonations. The artillery guns continued their slow and steady tempo, synonymous with a rain of steel falling on the American troops. With each jolt, Damian felt his body and belly vibrate.

Damian and the soldier crossed the warehouse and climbed up a staircase into a small maze of narrow corridors. A huge cave stretched out before their eyes. A metal footbridge ran along the edge of the precipice and led to the front of a concrete bunker with loopholes.

"What the hell..." mumbled the soldier.

Damian looked over his shoulder. His companion was looking at the cave. Damian noticed that he was staring at a specific point at the bottom of the cave. As he approached the edge, Damian noticed a small column of human figures moving slowly. Over the regular shaking of the cannons, he heard a metallic rattle and a rolling sound. Several black shapes appeared beside the soldiers. A large, slowly moving hull, topped by a rail where a cannon was attached.

"That's their Chimera tank," the soldier murmured.

Damian could read the apprehension in the soldier's eyes as he followed the slow movement of the tanks. Damian searched his memory and the many History books he had read in the Vault but could not remember what a Chimera tank might look like. He could still see clearly the images of an American armored column advancing through the ruins of Shanghai. The pre-war American tanks were very similar to those used in other conflicts between World War II and the Great War. Damian had also been able to see the remains of one of these tanks in the Capital Wasteland but could not remember what the Chinese tanks looked exactly like.

Movement to his left caught his attention. Three enemy soldiers were heading towards them. Damian took cover behind a wall while his companion opened fire on their attackers. Damian noted that the Chinese soldiers were all miraculously missing their shot when they fired at the soldier. The simulation had probably planned to make him invincible for the duration of this mission. Damian fired a few rounds towards the enemy soldiers. One by one, the enemy soldiers fell.

Their progress through the bunker was strangely easy. The fire support provided by the American soldier with Damian was a great help. From time to time, they came across locked doors, containing these intelligence briefcases and the holotapes. Damian left them behind, preferring to concentrate on the simulation, convinced that the collection of these briefcases, tapes and information terminals was not necessary for the success of the simulation. However, the simulation gave Damian a hard time. Although it was only a computer program, it seemed determined to kill him. It placed the Chinese soldiers in corners of tunnels or behind crates or containers and they would jump out and fire at him when he was close enough.

The situation became more difficult when they arrived in a room dedicated to storing artillery shells. A Chinese soldier ambushed them, hiding between the shelves where the shells were piled up. When Damian saw the soldier with him firing back without worrying about hitting a shell or the Chinese soldier, he had confirmation that the shells would not explode if they were hit by a bullet. The Battle of Anchorage simulation was realistic, but Damian was relieved that the designers had not thought of this detail when programming it.

They crossed several small ammunition storages room until they entered the main warehouse. The guns were probably have been right above their heads, as indicated by the detonations and rumble they heard.

Damian was amazed at the number of shells there. Despite his companion's comments that the Chinese were running out of ammunition for the howitzers, the number of large caliber shells piling up in this room indicated that the Chinese could fire for a long time before they ran out of ammunition. Seeing the warehouse, Damian was even happier that the programmers in the simulation did not plan to make them destructible in a firefight. With the number of shells present, there was a good chance that an internal explosion would raze the entire outpost and much of the mountain at the same time.

Looking up to see how far the warehouse extended, Damian noticed movement on one of the walkways that ran across the room. A human figure, dressed all in black, ran and stepped over the railing. Just before it hit the floor, it disappeared.

"Did you see that?" Damian asked, forgetting he was talking at a computer program.

"No, what?" replied the soldier.

Damian was surprised to hear the soldier react and respond to him like a human being. He looked at where he had seen the human figure.

"I saw someone on that catwalk, and he disappeared right after."

The soldier grunted and squinted, scanning the warehouse.

"Mmmh, let's move forward and be careful," he said.

Damian checked the ammunition in his assault rifle and followed the soldier. With their weapons ready, they inspected every nook and cranny. Damian watched for movement in his peripheral vision. He was sure he saw someone running before he disappeared. He was also sure that he heard the click he perceived when his Stealth Boy was activated.

He heard a scream in Chinese next to him. He turned around and an invisible, slightly deformed figure jump over him. Taken by surprise, Damian pointed his rifle at his assailant while firing. The field of invisibility of the silhouette ceased, revealing a man in a grey outfit with an orange visor helmet, covering his head and face completely. He was holding a sword and raised his arm to strike Damian.

His blow deflected Damian's shots. He withdrew his sword and prepared to drive the blade into his belly. Damian was able to parry the attack with his weapon. His enemy leapt back and a snap in the air made him disappear.

"Fucking Crimson Dragoon!" the soldier shouted as he swung around and pointed his rifle into the void.

Another attack came, this time from the front. The field of invisibility faded as the Chinese soldier struck. With surreal speed, the American soldier dodged the attack and crushed the barrel of his rifle in the back of his assailant before pulling the trigger. With his chest torn open, the Chinese soldier collapsed to the ground before disappearing in a bluish glow.

Damian looked all around him. He had placed the American soldier on his back so that no attack would come from that direction. He listened, desperately trying to spot the footsteps of his enemies, but their special suits would make them completely silent and the rumbling of the artillery guns above them covered almost all the sounds. Another gunshot roared behind him. His companion had just eliminated a second Chinese soldier.

A movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He turned his head and saw the contours of the Chinese soldier's silhouette, distorted by the field of invisibility, moving towards him. Damian slightly aimed his weapon and fired. The blue flash around the body appeared, meaning that his assailant was dead.

Damian caught his breath and looked nervously around him. Several seconds passed without any further attack. Judging that the way was clear, they resumed their crossing of the bunker, using the footbridges to get upstairs. They walked along a wide gate that separated them from a large concrete and metal structure. Shells were arranged in circles, resting on a kind of rail. In the middle, a chain carried the shells to the ceiling. A gigantic automated elevator, capable of feeding the artillery guns with shells, and probably loading them automatically, without the need for human assistance. With each detonation and jolt that announced a new shot, the elevator would move, and the shells would turn or rise, then the machine would stop until the next gun shot.

They climbed to the top of the warehouse to a metal door that led them outside. They had a great view of a big city, with its buildings, small houses, all surrounded by factories. Huge columns of smoke were rising from the city.

Suddenly, a terrible detonation sounded next to them. The ground shook beneath their feet and Damian felt as if his whole body had just vibrated. The gigantic muzzle of an artillery gun protruded over the mountain, spewing flames and lead. Each detonation was accompanied a few seconds later by a second, more distant, as a huge sheaf of earth and flame rose from the point of impact of the shell.

The guns were enthroned on the mountainside, pouring an iron storm into the skies. A system of footbridges and natural paths allowed the soldiers operating and protecting the guns to move between them. Each cannon was placed on a thick circular concrete base, where the gunners had to work hard to keep the cannon's rhythm and firing angle.

The area was heavily guarded, and it did not take long for the Chinese to spot their presence. The soldier pushed Damian forward toward a footbridge and began to fire back, allowing him to advance.

Damian walked along the cliff and came to the foot of one of the guns. The small space between the mountainside and the base of the artillery piece was guarded by a pillbox. The Chinese, sheltered inside, and fired at him, their shots adding to the surrounding hubbub.

Damian's entire body was shaking. He didn't know if it was due to adrenaline, fear or the rattle of the cannon fire. His companion was still at the top of the bridge and was insulting the Chinese soldiers while shooting at them.

Damian fired back at the soldiers in the pillbox as best as he could without exposing him too much. He had taken cover behind a kind of cooling system, attached to the base of the artillery piece. The metal piece was flashing red. Damian fired a burst towards the bunker and hit a Chinese soldier who crossed his range, probably to go around him and kill him. He grabbed a grenade from his belt and sent it carelessly towards the bunker. The cloud of dust was raised by the small explosion and the metal splinters that passed through the small bunker window gave him time to get one of the satchels charge out of his bag. A message appeared on his retina, telling him that by placing the charge there, he could destroy the cannon. However, he would have 20 seconds to move away before the explosion.

Damian grabbed the explosive device. He knew instantly how to use it. He pulled on a small string and smoke began to billow out of the satchel. He placed the charge between the pipes of the metal part of the artillery gun base and ran away.

He spotted a stairway in front of him. He ran towards it, throwing a few bursts towards the pillbox in case its occupants were still alive. A bullet whistled at his ears, then a second, at his feet, raising dust, snow and stones. Without bothering to look at where the shots came from, Damian continued his mad rush, zigzagging as Sarah had taught him to make the shooter's aim harder.

When he reached the stairs, Damian began to climb it four by four. Rising into the sky, he saw the black silhouette of one of those Crimson Dragoons, holding a sniper rifle. Perched on a ledge above the guns, the Chinese soldier placed Damian in his sights. At the same time, blood came out of his neck and he fell from his perch. Damian saw his companion, looking satisfied as the Chinese soldier tumbled down the rock.

Damian arrived at a second, unguarded cannon. He activated the charge and placed it in the same place as the first. At the same time, a loud bang resounded in his back. He looked over his shoulder and saw a column of flames and smoke rising from the location of the first gun.

He left the second howitzer behind him and made his way, by a small natural path, to the last gun. The last piece of artillery was protected by a pillbox. Damian had arrived on the rear of the last Chinese soldiers defending the artillery battery.

The door of the pillbox was facing him. The last surviving Chinese soldiers were starting to come out. Damian aimed his assault rifle and fired. He killed one Chinese soldier and the other two hid inside the small bunker. His magazine was empty. Damian dropped his rifle and grabbed the Gauss rifle from behind his back. He aimed and fired. One of the enemy soldiers had just come out of the bunker and was pointing a flamethrower in his direction. The projectile from the Gauss rifle pierced his chest and exploded the gas tank on his back. A large ball of fire engulfed him and the entire bunker, carbonizing the last defenders.

Damian moved towards the last cannon and placed the explosive charge on it. He ran away, counting in his head the seconds before the explosion. Hidden behind a large rock, he felt the blast and the heat wave of the explosion.

His companion's cries of joy reached him just before his vision became blurred and a white flash blinded him.

Damian's vision was back to normal. The mountain range and the bombed city had given way to a large grey tent. Several tables and computers occupied the tent and men and women in officer and soldier uniforms were busy in front of the terminal screens or on maps and field reports. Damian's weapons had disappeared, as had the buzzing in his ears. He could no longer feel the helmet on his head and when he looked around, he saw a tall man with white hair, dressed in a grey uniform and a white raincoat, leaning over an interactive table in the center of the tent.

The man turned his head towards Damian. His face was familiar, and before Damian could remember where he had seen him, the man addressed him in a martial tone.

"You did a good job destroying those guns, soldier. A real nice job!"

His voice was also familiar to Damian. He let the man continue as he remembered where he had seen and heard this man. In front of him was General Constantine Chase, the man leading the American operation to reclaim Anchorage from Chinese hands during the Sino-American War. Well, this General Chase was a computer reproduction of the famous officer. Damian had heard a lot about him in the Vault and had heard many of his speeches in Mr. Brotch's History class.

Come to think of it, Damian had also read Chase's name in one of Braun's computer files in the Tranquility Lane simulation.

The stern look on the General's avatar's face drew Damian out of his daydream. Chase was talking about his discontent over the severe losses that the Chinese artillery strikes had inflicted on the American troops and especially on Chase's command post.

While Chase was talking, Damian was doing his best to ignore the lights that lined the interior of the tent, a rather brutal reminder that he was immersed in a simulation, and the images of the battle he had just fought, seconds ago.

"Enough chatter, soldier. If I brought you here instead of sending you back to your unit, it's for a good reason."

Chase pulled a large cigar from the inside pocket of his trench coat and placed it between his teeth before lighting it.

"From now on, you're going to be commanding my Strike Team."

As naturally as if he had just announced this week's weather forecast, the simulation, through Chase, had just promoted Damian to lead a group of soldiers. The simulation was also used to train future soldiers for command, and it had to deal with the results on the orders and decisions that were given and made.

Chase blew out a grey and smelly smoke of his cigar. He motioned for Damian to approach the table in front of him. Damian stepped forward while Chase pressed a button on a keyboard at the table.

The black background of the table lit up blue and a map appeared on the screen, sizzling for a few seconds before becoming clearer, after Chase had slightly banged his fist on the table.

"You and your men will have three high value targets to deal with. Otherwise, Operation Anchorage will be dead in the water."

Chase pushed some keys on the small keyboard and a portion of the map grew larger, showing the location of the American Field Headquarters or the network of trenches that separated Chase's tent from the Chinese command post. Among everything he said, Damian noted several inconsistencies. In his recollections of his History classes, the American trenches were much further away from the American CP. The simulation may not have been powerful enough to cover a large area and judging by the map, Damian would have to fight over an already large area.

Chase showed him his three targets, while tapping on the keyboard to enlarge the satellite image, he pointed to various points on the map and made his little comment.

Damian was to destroy a camp and an armored depot, capture a Chinese outpost on a ridge near an old mining complex, and finally cross the trenches and deactivate a Pulse Field, encircling Chinese headquarters. In short, he had to kill all the Chinese soldiers in the simulation.

"There, you know everything. Now, go talk to Lieutenant Morgan if you have any questions about your targets," Chase said, turning off the computer table. "Hurry up and destroy those targets so we can launch the assault with the T-51b. Dismiss."

Damian looked around and saw a young African American man waiting in a corner of the tent with a notepad in his hand and staring at him. When Damian approached him, he stood at attention and introduced himself.

"Lieutenant Thomas Morgan, Intelligence and Logistics. At your service, Sir."

He looked at Damian from head to toe, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

"So, you're the new commander of the suicide squad?"

Damian had an unpleasant impression. The two men stared at each other for a few seconds before Morgan spoke again.

"So, what do you need? I have information about your objectives if you don't want to advance blindly once you're in the field."

"First of all, how does a Strike Team work?" asked Damian.

"It's very simple."

Morgan gave him several holotapes. He looked at Damian, still clueless, and started explaining.

"These are recruitment markers. Basically, you use them to recruit soldiers for your Strike Team. For example, a grunt with R91 and frag grenades will cost you one marker, while a Sentry bot or a Mister Gutsy will cost more. You will have to deal with what you have for each mission. But as far as the command itself, you'll have to deal with Sergeant Montgomery, your new group leader. I'm sure he'll be happy to team up with you again after the artillery battery mission. If you have any questions, you should talk with him.

Damian asked Morgan several questions about his targets. He wanted to know as much as possible before venturing into the icy hell waiting outside. He questioned Morgan at length about the Chimera depot. The Chinese tanks were old mining machines converted into tanks, and according to Morgan, a particularly formidable weapon.

The mining facility near the outpost was controlled by the Crimson Dragoons, the same elite soldiers that Damian had met in the artillery outpost, with their special outfits allowing them to make themselves invisible. When Morgan described to him what a Pulse Field looked like, Damian couldn't help but find similarities with the force fields that the Enclave had set up around Project Purity.

"One more thing," Damian asked, pointing to the recruitment markers. "How do I recruit the members of the Strike Team and how do I get equipment?"

In response, Morgan pointed to a terminal in the corner of the tent.

"Place your recruitment markers in the computer, make your choices, and your men will wait outside with Montgomery. For your weapons, select a loadout and go to the Quartermaster."

Damian let the officer go back to his reports and approached the terminal. Military strategy was not his forte and he had no idea how to organize his team. He chose the option that seemed best to him, a group that could handle any situation.

Damian left the tent after selecting his loadout for the mission and found himself in the middle of the American Field headquarters. The camp was surrounded by several rocky hills and fir trees. The entrance was fortified with large metal walls and several bunkers and watchtowers.

The camp was bustling with activity. About a dozen of grey tents were set up within the camp and small groups of soldiers came and went. As Damian advanced through the camp, he passed a large tent with a red cross on it. The field hospital looked more like a slaughterhouse. Young men and women were lying on beds, covered with bandages. Nurses carried buckets or basins filled with blood, dirty bandages or human limbs. In the midst of all this, surrounded by canvas or beige screens, army surgeons and doctors worked on the wounded, injecting morphine, sedatives or amputating an arm or leg from the unfortunate.

Damian decided to enter. He scanned the tent, looking for the red flashes of the usable objects in the simulation. He found no Stimpaks, and the only red thing he could see was the stream of blood dripping from the operating tables or slowly freezing on the floor. As he was about to leave, he felt a hand resting on his arm.

An African American woman in her thirties in a white, blood-stained coat was facing him. She was holding a transparent box in her hand. Looking down, Damian saw that the box contained five large syringes. He had already seen similar syringes in the Wasteland, among Raiders, drug dealers, and at Silver's house in Springvale.

"Did you destroy those cannons on the mountain?" the woman asked. "Here's your chem ration, and if you need care between OPs, come see me."

Damian looked at the box again for a few seconds before taking it. The little arrow that had appeared every time he had picked up a weapon, appeared again. He was holding a box of Psycho in his hands. He remembered that Moriarty had told him about it when he had to do him a favor in exchange for information about his father.

Apparently, the US Army had decided to make its soldiers more combative by injecting them with combat drugs. Damian left the tent after a brief nod to the woman. Outside, he threw the box into a trash can overflowing with used medical supplies. He didn't know the effects of the drug and he didn't want to check if the simulation pod would make him addicted or if the effects would only be illusory.

He headed toward another tent, where a man with white hair and a winterized combat armor was standing guard. When he saw Damian, he stood at attention.

"Here for the Fire Team gear?" asked the man.

Damian nodded. The soldier entered the tent and came back a few seconds later with an assault rifle, a 10mm pistol and some grenades.

"Here you go, Sir. I you have a complain, make sure you lodge it in writing using the standard 10-78BGHCF Form."

"Yeah, yeah," answered Damian while strapping his rifle to his chest.

In the middle of the camp, he saw the soldier with whom he had destroyed the artillery battery. He was in the middle of a discussion with a small group of soldiers. Damian approached and when they saw him coming, they threw away their cigarette butts and readjusted their uniforms and armor.

"Looks like you and I are going to team up again," said the soldier. "I just saw General Chase and he informed me of my new assignment. Congratulations on the promotion, by the way."

The soldier stood at attention, as did the other members of the battle group. Damian sketched a military salute and looked at each of the soldiers.

In total, in addition to him and Sergeant Montgomery, there were three soldiers and one Mister Gutsy. The robot was an exact copy of all the other Mister Handy that Damian had come across so far, except for a few details. Covered with a layer of grey paint, the robot had a few scratches and battle marks and a white star had been painted on its shell. The Mister Gutsy was equipped with a flamethrower and a plasma gun.

The soldiers were all equipped with the standard US Army loadout, an R91, a handgun and some grenades. One of the soldiers carried a rocket launcher in his back and the one next to him, a woman judging by her hips and chest, had a metal harness on her back on which several rockets were laid and wrapped in a piece of grey cloth.

All except Montgomery had their faces hidden under a thick grey hood and protective glasses.

"What are our orders?" asked Montgomery.

Damian thought for a moment. As he was about to speak, he heard a rumbling in the sky. Everyone raised their heads. Several arrow-shaped aircrafts passed overhead, leaving a trail of condensation in their wake.

"That's it, boys, give them hell," smiled Montgomery as he watched the huge wave of American bombers moving slowly between the clouds.

Montgomery lowered his head towards Damian and cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry. It's just that the idea of drowning all those commies in a sea of flames makes me happy right away."

Despite himself, Damian smiled at the idea that the writers of this simulation were at a loss to think that the ocean of flames would soon manifest itself and drown indiscriminately, Chinese, American and the rest of the world.

He looked successively at Montgomery and the other soldiers in front of him. Damian had never felt like a leader, let alone a commander of a military unit, a role that suited Amata better, who Damian was convinced would one day make an outstanding Overseer for Vault 101.

The simulation would probably not consider his refusal to command these troops, but Damian relied on Montgomery's apparent invincibility and unlimited ammunition capacity to make his job easier.

"What are your orders, sir?" asked the Sergeant.

Damian thought for a moment. The simulation could very well allow him to treat each target separately, as it could give him an unpleasant surprise. Attacking the outpost near the mining complex could very well generate a response from the Chinese sub-programs and have them counterattack with their armor. There was no indication that the simulation would react in this way, but Damian remained cautious and chose to attack the most pressing and dangerous objective.

"Do you know the mission?" Damian asked.

Montgomery listed the different objectives, using the same terms as Chase.

"We should take care of the camp and the tanks first," Damian said.

"Copy that," Montgomery answered. "I'll feel more comfortable once we destroy the damn tanks."

The newly formed Strike Team walked to the camp entrance. Above their heads, waves of bombers continued to pass, forming a huge veil in the sky and in the distance, they could hear detonations as the planes dropped their deadly cargo.

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**Hope you enjoyed. Until next time.**


	21. Chapter 21: Snow, blood and steel

**Nothing particular to say here, except thank you for reading and enjoy.**

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The entrance to the American camp was a fortress. The steel walls surrounding the American Field HQ were reinforced with metal spikes, anti-tank traps, concrete blocks and rows of barbed wire. A huge pipeline ran from the entrance to the camp to the plains of ice surrounding the battlefield.

Many soldiers came and went, returning from patrols or moving away to the maze of trenches that separated the two sides. Damian and the Strike Team arrived in a small clearing bordered by dead trees and the strange light blue veil that delimited the areas of the simulation.

Along the way, he was able to observe the small scenes that the main simulation computer had prepared for him. Medics carrying stretchers on which wounded and dead men and women were laying, a group of American soldiers executing Chinese prisoners. These scenes were carefully orchestrated to immerse the subject in the horror and violence of the fighting. In the end, this universe was not so different from the Wasteland. Sand and dust had replaced snow and ice, and the Chinese and Americans had given way to groups of Raiders, Super Mutants and troops from the Enclave and the Brotherhood. What had once been a spectacle reserved for men and women thrown onto battlefields through the centuries had become the daily life of every human being on Earth.

The Mister Gutsy levitated at the head of the battle group. He stood still and pointed a direction with one of his mechanical arms.

"We're approaching the Chinese camp," Montgomery whispered. "Get ready guys."

The other soldiers nodded and moved into combat formation. Montgomery crouched with Damian near an overturned tree. About 20 meters away from them, a small wooden bunker with a sandbag was facing them, next to a large wooden pole with speakers.

As Damian watched, he saw a Chinese soldier warming himself in front of a metal barrel turned into a brazier.

"How do we proceed?" Montgomery asked, looking at Damian.

Damian bit his lip in reflection. The only two options he saw were a frontal assault or a discreet approach. Luckily, the Chinese soldier was turning his back on them and hadn't noticed them.

"You have more experience than I do with this kind of situation," Damian said. "What are you suggesting?"

Montgomery remained silent for a few seconds. He turned to one of the soldiers and pointed to him. He then pointed at the Chinese soldier and then slid his thumb across his throat with a quick gesture. The soldier nodded and moved towards the bunker. When he reached the sandbag wall, he grabbed a knife, stood up, grabbed the Chinese soldier by the collar of his suit and slit his throat with a quick motion.

Damian and the rest of the team moved up. He was amazed that the A.I. controlling the US soldiers were basically acting as human beings, minus the fact that Montgomery would stand still in the middle of the open not caring about being shot by an entire squad of enemies. On the other hand, the Chinese soldiers' A.I. was… Retarded. It was like Damian was with real people fighting against a computer inside a wargame and he hoped that it would remain like this. When he thought about it, it was a little scary.

The Chinese camp consisted of a few tents, surrounded by sandbags. The various soldiers of the Strike Team moved from cover to cover. Only five Chinese soldiers and two guard dogs occupied the area. The soldiers of the Strike Team quickly and quietly eliminated them. The two dogs, locked in cages, barked and growled but were no threat to Damian and his men. They continued to advance through the camp, killing the few enemy soldiers they met.

They arrived in a small clearing with a small frozen lake in the middle and bordered by dead trees. Damian had a strange feeling. He expected to see several Chinese soldiers coming towards them, attracted by the dogs' incessant barking. The roar of the planes in the sky, the distant explosions and the whistling of the wind would probably cover the ferocious barking of the dogs, but Damian didn't feel comfortable.

One of the soldiers advanced into the clearing. He had walked a few yards when a small circular metal object sprang up at his feet. The soldier hiccupped in surprise and found himself wrapped in a thick cloud of snow.

All members of the battle group, except the robot, dove to the ground. Damian felt something fall on his back. He raised his head and saw a human leg beside him slowly light up and disappear. At the spot where the American soldier had been, a small blackened crater and small metal splinters and blood splashes in the snow.

"Shit, we're in the middle of a minefield!" cried the female soldier with the rockets.

"No, it's those damn spider drones," Montgomery replied.

No sooner had he finished his sentence than a Chinese soldier came out of nowhere. He looked at Damian and the others, with a stunned look on his face and aimed his rifle towards them. The snow next to him shook and another circular metal object appeared. It was blue-grey in color, with a small yellow capsule on top and four small claw-shaped legs. With surprising speed, the object jumped on the Chinese soldier's face and as the soldier screamed, the object exploded, blowing his head and shoulders off.

About a dozen more of these small spider drones emerged from the ground and began to move through the clearing. Next to him, Damian heard the Mister Gutsy firing his plasma gun, urging the other soldiers to do the same. The rest of the team imitated him almost immediately. Discretion was no longer applicable. The Chinese troops in the tank depot had certainly heard the two detonations, so adding a concerto of gunfire and plasma discharge was not going to change the situation.

Damian started to fire. The Chinese army's spider drones were real little bastards. Incredibly fast, and able to leap about a meter, they were difficult to destroy. Soldiers pressed the trigger on their weapons continuously, sweeping the area in front of them with the barrel of their weapons. From the corner of his eye, Damian could see his ammunition counter rapidly decreasing as he fired.

The gunshots echo gradually faded away. The clearing was now strewn with a dozen small black craters and pieces of metal.

"Hurry up!" Montgomery cried out. "The Commies know we're coming now!"

The Strike Team ran into a small stone gorge and arrived in front of the entrance to the depot. Surrounded by a thick concrete wall, the depot was guarded by watchtowers set up at strategic points within the compound.

The Mister Gutsy let out another propaganda phrase and swung his plasma weapon towards one of the bunkers and started firing. Out of the corner of his eye, Damian saw the silhouette of a Chinese soldier hiding behind the sandbags. The robot approached while firing and aimed its flamethrower at the watchtower. The stream of fire stretched to the structure and the inside turned into an inferno. A long, dreadful scream reached Damian's ears. He saw a human silhouette surrounded by flames throwing itself into the void and crashing into the snow.

Inside the depot, an alarm began to sound. Montgomery approached the gate and kicked it open.

"Come on, guys!" he shouted, turning to his men. "Take those fuel tanks and Chimera out, before their crews can get in!"

The Strike Team rushed into the depot, firing at every Chinese soldier they came across. The depot had numerous fuel tanks, repair stations and barracks. Damian saw several small groups of Chinese soldiers heading towards large mining machines. He aimed his weapon and sent a burst in their direction.

The Chimera crews had not yet rejoined their tank, giving Damian and the others a small chance to destroy the depot without coming face to face with armor.

The US soldier carrying the rocket launcher had dropped to his knees. He pointed his weapon towards a fuel tank and fired. The rocket whistled to the tank and it exploded into a huge fireball. A second tank was destroyed by the Mister Gutsy who had ignited the fuel with his plasma gun and flamethrower.

Damian felt the ground shaking under his feet. He turned around and saw a huge mining machine approaching him. With a gray hull, two huge track screws and a laser turret mounted on top, the Chimera tank began firing at him and the other soldiers. The Mister Gutsy exploded when it got hit on its levitation reactor.

The tank turned on itself, its laser turret firing in all directions. The soldier with the rocket launcher aimed his weapon again and fired in the direction of the tank. The rocket hit one of the screws. The laser turret swiveled and vaporized the last two American soldiers of the battle group. The tank was tracked and was firing in all directions.

Damian was facing the back of the tank. He ran towards it and climbed up. One of the hatches opened and Damian fired when he saw the head of a Chinese soldier coming out.

Montgomery had joined him, and he threw a grenade through the open hatch. The two men jumped into the snow as the grenade exploded, killing the crew and destroying the power supply to the laser turret.

Just before he hit the ground, Damian's vision became blurred and a white glow blinded him, as when he had destroyed the cannons in the mountain and had been teleported to General Chase's tent.

His vision began to return to normal and he recognized the inside of the command tent. He blinked several times and saw Chase smoking his cigar next to the map. The subprogram of the simulation managing the General, made a brief hand gesture towards Damian and ordered him to continue his mission.

Damian looked at the map for a moment. His next objective was a Chinese listening outpost near an old mining facility. The perfect place for ambushes he had been told.

He left the tent and observed a rather strange scene. A group of men and women wearing casual clothes under a long winter coat were standing close together. Some of them were carrying pencils and notepads, but most of them had cameras in their hands. All looked extremely cold and were the target of surprised, amused or aggressive glances from the soldiers inside the camp.

The journalists seemed to be waiting outside Chase's tent for him to deign to come out and report on the situation. Damian had been able to read one of Chase's speeches during his History classes. The text was the same as any of the US Army press releases from previous wars. In other words, praising the merits of the army, announcing that the front is advancing or that the enemy is suffering heavy losses and that nothing is can stop their troops and that moral has never been so high.

Damian was curious to see if Chase would come out of his tent and give a short speech to the chilled journalists, but another scene caught his attention.

One reporter had walked away from the others and was talking to three soldiers in combat armor, probably returning from patrol. Damian overheard him ask them to pose for a picture. The three soldiers looked at each other and shrugged. They stepped forward a little and took a pose that Damian recognized immediately. The soldiers were in the same pose as the statue at Anchorage Memorial in D.C.

The reporter took a picture and thanked the soldiers who returned to their duties without saying a word. Damian looked around and saw Montgomery. He approached him and noticed a tent with large piles of grey armor on which several technicians were working.

Damian recognized the power armor as that of the Brotherhood, but those ones were slightly different. Larger, painted with winter camouflage and with more rounded shapes than those worn by Sarah and her men, the armor was probably the T-51b power armor that Chase had told him about, the secret weapon of the Americans in the Battle of Anchorage.

"What are you orders, Sir?" asked the Sergeant.

Damian turned to Montgomery who this time was alone. He wasn't particularly ready to go back into combat, but the only way to leave this simulation was to reach the Chinese HQ. Or die trying.

"We would need more soldiers for the group," said Damian looking behind Montgomery.

"I'll take care of the recruits," replied the Sergeant. "What do you need?"

Damian scratched his head. The attack on the tank depot had gone well in retrospect, until they ran into those little spider drones and the rest of the group was mowed down by one of the Chimera tanks.

This time they were going to have to take over a ruined industrial area and a bunker. After a long hesitation, Damian turned to Montgomery.

"Call one of those Sentry bots and a few soldiers."

As if by magic, two fluorescent blue silhouettes appeared in a corner of the camp and moved towards Damian. Damian doubted that only three men and a robot would be able to overcome what awaited him, but he regained some hope when he saw the machine's armament rolling towards him.

He recognized the great robots that the Brotherhood used to guard the Citadel and that some of the Enclave patrols had. Equipped with a minigun and a rocket launcher, mounted on three legs ending in small notched wheels, with thick armor and a small head with a grid making it look like those medieval knight's helmets, the machine seemed invincible.

Damian had never seen what these robots were capable of, but with such an arsenal at their disposal, they must have been formidable opponents. In comparison, the infantry soldier looked ridiculously weak and small next to this imposing steel machine.

_(At the same time, in the real world)_

Olin was sitting in her chair, watching on the many monitors connected to the simulation pod. The simulation created by pre-war scientists was so advanced that it allowed an observer to follow the progress of the subject, live, like a movie.

While alternating her gaze between the screen showing what Damian was seeing, which displayed a snowy landscape and a grey sky with large snowflakes, and the vital signs monitor, Olin was frantically writing in a notebook. The Outcast had already made several attempts to complete the simulation, by getting Vault residents into the pod, but none of them had gone that far in the simulation or even entered the simulation. The Outcast had even installed the Pip-Boy of Vault 108's resident on one of their best men and got him into the capsule, but even this seasoned fighter was dead in the first part of the simulation.

Olin couldn't believe her eyes. The young man they'd just sent in was an extraordinary being. On the outside, he looked like any inhabitant of the Capital Wasteland, but he had managed to survive the simulation, where others who had received the most thorough and strict military training had failed.

The young woman frantically recorded every decision and action Damian took in the simulation. Behind her back, she could hear the other members of the Outcast commenting on what they saw on the screen. These soldiers, who, like her, despised the other inhabitants of the Wastes, treating them only as scum, only fit to act as servants for thankless tasks or as meals for a Super Mutant, had fist bet a few caps on how far that young man would go in the simulation or how he would die, but they suddenly begun to encourage him and wish that he would succeed in the simulation. Looking back, Olin could not remember that the other subjects they had installed in the pod had received such support from them. Olin had even found herself whispering encouragement to the young man whenever he was facing a difficult situation in the simulation, as if the advice, encouragement or remarks she and her companions were giving could be heard by Damian.

Taking a quick look at her notes, Olin noticed that Damian had almost completed half of the simulation. After the attack on the mining facility, all that remained was the assault on Chinese headquarters. Once the enemy command was eliminated, the simulation would end on its own and the door to the arsenal would open and the technology locked inside would finally be in the hands of the Outcast.

"How is it going?"

Reluctantly, Olin took her eyes off the screens and turned to McGraw as he entered the room.

"Quite well, I must admit. The subject passed the first part of the simulation and almost got through the second."

"What is he doing now?" McGraw asked as he approached the screen.

"It looks like he's about to attack a Chinese outpost in a mining facility. I have to admit he's doing pretty well for someone who hasn't had as much military training as we have."

"Remarkable indeed, for a savage. I guess we'll have to rethink our judgment of them," admitted the Protector.

"McGraw."

Sibley had just entered the room and was looking down on him with his eternal condescending gaze.

"We need to talk."

Olin watched them walk away and returned to her notes and her study of Damian's vital signs. After a few minutes, she and the few soldiers in the room were startled when they heard Sibley's voice across the hall.

"This is unacceptable!"

McGraw raised his voice as well.

"There's no use arguing Defender! I'm the one running this facility! Now get back to your post!"

Sibley walked out of McGraw's office room and moved to another part of the bunker, several soldiers following him. McGraw, who was out as well, watched him walk away. He turned to the other members of the Outcast, who were staring at him, stunned.

"Don't you have anything else to do? Get back to your posts!"

He disappeared into his office, while the soldiers and scribes of the Outcast went back to their work.

_(Battle of Anchorage simulation, a few minutes later)_

The mining facility was right in front of Damian and the others. The aerial ballet of bombers and fighters had stopped when the sky began to become overcast and thick snowflakes began to fall.

Located inside the ridge of a mountain, the Americans entered the mining complex along several railroad tracks. The freight cars, filled to the brim, had been immobilized on the rails since the beginning of the conflict.

In addition to his Strike Team, Damian had about ten US soldiers with him on the scene. They were all crouching behind the abandoned freight cars, visibly waiting for the attack order to come. One of the soldiers was observing the mining facility in front of them, a collection of industrial buildings, excavators, huts and containers, transformed into a stronghold by the Chinese. His companion next to him had his hand on the man's belt and was trying to pull him to force him to take cover.

Everyone jumped and slammed against the wagons when a shot rang out against the rocky walls of the ridge. The American soldier's head had exploded, and his body crackled with the blue glow of the simulation, before evaporating.

One of the soldiers began firing in the direction of the mining complex and was immediately imitated by his companions.

"Cease fire! Cease fire goddammit!" Montgomery shouted.

The soldiers stopped and all dove to cover.

"Did anyone see a sniper?" asked the Sergeant.

The soldiers repeated the question to each other, and all shook their heads in disagreement. Damian looked around him and saw the Sentry bot. He waved at the machine and pointed the mining complex. The machine moved slowly along the train tracks. A shot rang out and Damian saw sparks on the robot's head. Without appearing to be the least bit embarrassed, the robot pivoted its arm with the minigun towards a series of containers stacked one on top of the other. The shrill whistle of the spinning weapon reached Damian's ears. On the stack of containers, a figure dressed in black was struck by the flood of bullets and disappeared in a blood-red mist.

Silence fell as the simulation removed what was left of the Chinese sniper. Damian and the other soldiers advanced cautiously inside the mine. Every nook and cranny, every destroyed window and every wall of sandbags could hold a sniper or enemy soldier. Seeing these destroyed buildings around him, Damian felt a familiar feeling as he walked through them, like he was walking through the ruins of D.C.

A rumble in the air began to be heard. Damian saw the familiar shape of a Vertibird appear from behind the ridge. The aircraft, painted with white and gray camouflage patterns, passed over him and the other soldiers and landed a little further down a dirt road. The doors of the Vertibird slid open and several American soldiers came out.

The aircraft began to take off when a detonation sounded in the mine. The inside of the Vertibird lit up with flames and the destroyed carcass fell violently to the ground. All the soldiers looked around them, as the shredded bodies of those caught in the explosion began to disappear. Damian noticed a small trail of smoke coming from the smoking carcass of the Vertibird and heading towards one of the ruined buildings.

All hell broke loose around him. Several American soldiers collapsed in the snow, hit by a sniper. The Chinese were firing from the ruined buildings, with rocket launchers at the soldiers in the open and they had posted several snipers on the ridge.

Damian rushed into a destroyed building after a soldier and Montgomery. A quick glance over his shoulder told him that the Sentry bot was in contact with several enemy snipers and was pointing his rocket launcher in their direction.

Damian heard a scream. He turned around and saw the American soldier in front of him with a bayonet stuck in his ribs. At the end of the bayonet, attached to an assault rifle, was a Chinese soldier. Montgomery grabbed his trench knife and jumped on the Chinese soldier. He punched him in the face and Damian could hear the bones cracking under the knife fist guard. The soldier fell to the ground and Montgomery finished him off by crushing his head with his foot.

Despite the fierce resistance of the Chinese, Damian and the surviving soldiers managed to reach the entrance of a bunker, a large concrete structure built on the rock face of the ridge, surmounted by several radio antennas and protected by a pillbox and sandbag walls.

The Americans launched the assault immediately, supported by the Strike Team Sentry bot.

Sheltered behind a rocky formation, Damian watched the American soldiers throw themselves under fire from the Chinese defenders while the latter, well entrenched, continuously fired on their enemies.

"Blow up the pillbox!"

Damian turned to see who had spoken and saw an American soldier equipped with a rocket launcher crouching near him. The ground shook slightly. The rocket fire had lifted a small layer of snow from the ground and the rocks around it. The projectile hit the pillbox on the roof of the Chinese bunker, shattering the concrete wall and the Chinese hiding inside.

Damian climbed a small metal staircase and arrived at the front door of the outpost. He was about to open it when he received it in his face. Damian tumbled down the stairs and fell on his back. As he straightened up, he saw one of the Chinese Crimson Dragoons pointing his rifle at him. The Chinese commando stiffened when a bullet pierced his throat. He fell forward and evaporated just before landing on Damian.

Montgomery approached, his gun raised at where the dead body was supposed to be, and tuned toward Damian.

"Are you all right, Sir?" asked the Sergeant as he helped Damian to get up.

Damian nodded. He hobbled up the stairs and entered the building, followed by Montgomery and several US soldiers.

The listening post looked a lot like the artillery bunker in the mountain. Poorly lit corridors, Chinese army propaganda posters, computers probably used to decipher coded American or Chinese messages.

Damian could hear the shots being exchanged between the attackers and the last defenders a little higher up in the bunker. He found a small group of American soldiers fighting two Chinese commandos. The commandos were hiding in the corners of a room and using their optical camouflage to move around the room. Hidden behind a computer console, Damian could see three silhouettes wearing Chinese battle dress. The three men were unarmed and were protecting their heads with their arms.

Damian sent a burst across the room and hit one of the two Crimson Dragoons, which collapsed against a pile of metal boxes. The second one decided to draw a long sword and charge the American soldiers and found himself facing a deluge of bullets, each American soldier choosing to empty their magazines on him.

Seeing Damian and the others enter, the last three Chinese stood up and raised their hands in the air, imploring the Americans to let them live. Coldly, Montgomery drew his sidearm and executed the three soldiers in front of the impassive eyes of his men.

Damian watched the three corpses turn blue before disappearing. He joined Montgomery and the rest of the troops outside on the roof of the bunker.

All the Chinese defenders were dead, and the US troops were beginning to move in. Damian sat down on a wooden crate next to the destroyed bunker and removed his helmet.

_"I hope these Outcast guys will keep their promise,"_ he thought.

All he had to do now, was to lead the assault on the Chinese Pulse Field, and the simulation would finally be over. Staring at the blank, he wondered how a simulation like this one had found favor with the high commanders of the US Army. Anyone plunged into this computer-generated frozen hell would go mad, seeing all that blood, constantly hearing gunshots or explosions, and seeing the man or woman next to him, pulverized by a shell.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to banish from his mind the images of dismembered bodies or corpses he had seen, not knowing whether it was the corpse of a Raider he had had to kill in the Wasteland or one of the human-looking A.I. of the simulation, shattered by an explosion.

Damian didn't have time to think more about the horrors of war and the Capital Wasteland as Montgomery approached him and gave him a large walkie-talkie. Damian frowned and looked at it for a few seconds before he picked it up and brought it close to his ear.

"_Outstanding work with the outpost, soldier."_

Chase's voice crackled on the portable radio. He didn't give Damian time to speak and continued.

_"No time to daydream. We'll send the Intel boys to inspect the outpost, while you go immediately to the main trench and wait for further orders. Over and out."_

Damian sighed and gave Montgomery the radio back.

"What are the orders?" asked the Sergeant.

"We're attacking the Pulse Field," Damian answered mechanically.

"Great," smiled Montgomery. "The sooner we kick the Commies from our country, the sooner we can go to China and burn it to the fuckin' ground."

Damian did not answer and got up, and with the survivors of his group and the rest of the American soldiers, left the ridge and the mining complex to the network of trenches that separated them from his last objective and the end of the simulation and this nightmare.

Arriving in front of the American camp, Damian was surprised to see Chase and his entire staff out of his command tent. The old General smoked his cigar and was giving words of encouragement to the soldiers heading to the front.

When he saw Damian, he congratulated him again and explained to him the next steps.

"A general assault was launched on the Pulse Field and the Commies' HQ. I know you and your men are tired, but if we don't attack right away, the Red bastards will turn this No Man's Land into an impregnable fortress."

He looked at the watch on his wrist and turned to one of his subordinates and nodded his head.

"It's now thirteen-zero-zero. You are going to take up positions in the trenches and at thirteen-zero-five, a bombardment will be launched on the Chinese positions which will last ten minutes. That means that at thirteen-fifteen, you will launch the assault. Good luck, gentlemen."

Chase turned in a rather theatrical fashion and disappeared inside the camp with his staff, leaving Damian to head for the trenches.

Along the way, Damian couldn't stop thinking about what to expect. He was convinced that the simulation had not yet revealed its full potential and he would have to be extra careful if he didn't want to die in that damn pod.

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**I always wondered what the Outcast were doing while you get in the sim. Are they watching you like a twitch stream? Are they taking bet like on a horse race? Or are they just standing guard around the sim pod waiting for you to succeed?**


	22. Chapter 22: Fields of Anchorage

**Hello eveyone, hope you are doing well. Just wanted to say thank you to the people who have favorite/followed, reviewed it or just read the story so far. In this chapter, Damian reach the end of the Anchorage simulation. How will he handle the final trench assault? Find out below.**

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All the US soldiers generated by the simulation were gathered in the trench. The trench looked like an open coffin. A wide elongated ditch, reinforced with wooden planks and sandbags, where the men and women generated by the simulation were piled up, all wading through a mixture of snow, water and mud, clinging to the boots and the armor. The Americans had tried to make the place more pleasant to live in. Small alcoves dug into the ice, where small bunks, tables and stools had been set up, hot plates connected to a fission battery by cables or were transformed into firing posts.

As Damian entered the trench, he was greeted by a macabre scene. Lying on the ground, wounded soldiers were examined by a small group of medics. The head medic would cast a cold glance at a man, or woman, lying in front of him. He would comment on the wound and the affected body part and another medic would record it in a small notebook. From time to time, he would give a brief wave to one of his subordinates, who would remove the soldier's ID tag, and then the medic party would resume its examination.

A silent sentence, for a bad stroke of fate. A wound on one part of the body might be worth evacuating to a hospital, or at least to the tent Damian had seen in the American camp, while a wound on another part of the body was worth a simple blank glance from a doctor, before the dog tags were removed from the still living soldier, to be recorded. Then the family would receive a letter, indicating the full name of the deceased and the words _"Killed In Action"_.

Damian was confused. The Battle of Anchorage simulation was so strange that he lost his bearings. The computer could make him experience a real descent into darkness, either through scenes like this or by tearing apart the soldier next to him in a sheaf of blood and guts, before the tiny, still-identifiable pieces of the soldier disappeared in that little blue flash. Damian could feel the bite of the cold on his limbs or face, the recoil of his weapon and the butterflies in his stomach, which had never really left him since his exit from the Vault. All that was very real.

On the other hand, the simulation, apart from its scandalous Manichaeism, seemed totally out of place. During History classes in the Vault, Damian had learned that the real Battle of Anchorage had cost the lives of many soldiers on both sides, but he could hardly imagine that the real soldiers had thrown themselves at the enemy machineguns, as some of the Chinese soldiers in the simulation had done with him. Likewise, the invincibility of some of the sub-programs like Montgomery was ridiculous and had led to delirious situations, such as the destruction of the artillery guns on the mountain, where Montgomery had been standing on a staircase being shot at by a dozen enemy soldiers who, miraculously, all missed their targets.

It was as if in the midst of its development, the simulation, intended to be as realistic, violent and brutal as possible, in order to prepare a soldier for the horrors of war, had turned into a cheap pre-war action movie. Damian favored this hypothesis because, in his opinion, no sane person would have agreed to return to a battlefield after participating in this simulation.

This simulation, once completed, would undoubtedly leave its mark. All the shootings Damian had been involved in in the Wasteland were nothing compared to the simulation and he began to wonder what the assault on Project Purity might look like when the time came. The only good thing was that if Damian survived the simulation, he would have gained some semblance of military and combat experience that might be useful in the assault on the Enclave.

Damian looked at the watch hanging on the soldier's wrist next to him. It read 1:12 pm. Three more minutes and the assault would begin. He raised his head to the sky. Through the clouds, he could hear the shells whistling before they finished their deadly fall course and exploded.

Some explosions were closer than others and Damian could see the apparent imprecision of these bombing campaigns, designed to destroy a large area and instill fear in the enemy. One of the shells exploded not far from them and Damian could see some of the soldiers next to him jumping out and tucking their heads into their shoulders.

Damian looked at the soldiers around him. Montgomery was frantically chewing gum, a nervous look on his watch and his ear attached to a radio. Sitting in the snow, or standing against the trench walls, the men and women in combat armor were giving each other nervous glances or trying to comfort each other. Some chatted quietly, others checked their ammunition pouches for the umpteenth time, while one soldier with a flamethrower lit his companions' cigarettes with the small blue flame at the end of his weapon.

Damian was listening distractedly to the conversation between two soldiers when he noticed that his right leg was shaking uncontrollably. He thought back to the last time he had shaken like this, when he was locked in the Super-Duper Mart with the Raiders on first days in the Wastes. That day now seemed so far away, even more so now that he was taking part in a simulation of a war that occurred more than two centuries ago.

"One minute," Montgomery announced as he looked up from his watch.

"One minute," a soldier next to Damian nervously repeated.

The soldiers threw away their cigarette butts and got up, stopping their discussions at the same time. One of them stood in the center of the trench. He looked at the soldiers gathered in the trench, tilted his head slightly back and joined his hands together to amplify the sound of his voice.

"Fix bayonet!"

The order was repeated elsewhere in the trench, and Damian heard a concerto of blades drawn from their sheaths. The soldiers attached the bayonets on their rifles and turned to the top of the trench. There were several ladders to climb out of the trench and a few steps made of wooden beams also led to No Man's Land and the next trench, about 20 meters further on.

"Thirty seconds!"

Damian checked his assault rifle and turned towards the edge of the trench. The explosions were becoming rarer and the last shells were whistling over their heads.

"Ten seconds!"

Damian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The echo of the last detonation evaporated into the air and Montgomery's voice echoed, repeating the order from the radio.

"Charge! Over the top guys!"

Like one man, the soldiers rushed out of the trench, using the ladders or climbing the small staircase to rush to the enemy trenches.

As soon as they came out, a series of explosions shook the ground around them. The Chinese still had artillery and had adjusted their bombardment to perfection.

The ground that separated them from the Chinese trench looked like the Moon. A field of shell craters dotted with small wooden pillboxes and destroyed sandbags and a maze of barbed wire where the soldiers hung on and got stuck.

Damian ran in a zigzag around the large shell craters with his head tucked into his shoulders. All around him, shells rained down and shrapnel flew in all directions, tearing flesh, clothing and armor apart.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see flashes of light from the enemy trenches and the infernal staccato of the machineguns.

An explosion sounded behind him and he felt the blast propel him forward. He landed a few meters further into the Chinese trench. As he got up, he looked over his shoulder. About ten US soldiers were with him. One of them was leaning against a wooden panel and was firing blind bursts towards the rest of the trench.

The infernal concerto of explosions was ringing in his ears, and Damian had to bite his lip to force himself to move. A mixture of snow, earth and pebbles, from time to time accompanied by human limbs, fell back into the trench or No Man's Land as the shells rained down over their heads.

"Fucking Chinese," spat out Montgomery who was next to him and wiped the mud off his face. "Those bastards have perfect timing. At least bombing their own positions will make our job easier."

Two soldiers equipped with flamethrowers passed them and rushed into the trench, followed by the rest of the surviving soldiers. Damian followed them. The soldiers with the flamethrowers aimed their weapons at the corners of the trench and let out long burst of flames.

Three Chinese soldiers sprang from a corner of the trench and were immediately engulfed in the brazier. They fell on the ground, gasping for air, as their bodies were eaten by flames and the smell of burning flesh was added to the smell of gasoline.

The trench ended with a small wooden log staircase in the frozen ground. Sheltered by a rocky pass, Damian and the American soldiers reached a third trench.

Wading through a mixture of mud, blood and slush, Damian arrived in a small wooden shelter. They crossed it and arrived in front of a rectilinear trench guarded by a concrete pillbox.

Two American soldiers ran into the trench and were soon targeted by the Chinese machineguns in the bunker. One of the soldiers with a flamethrower tried to reach the bunker but was also killed.

"What do we do?" asked one of the soldiers of the battle group hysterically.

"What do you think we do?" answered Montgomery. "Let's shoot them!"

All the American soldiers started shooting at the bunker, but the defenders were dug in and none of their shots would pierce the concrete wall of the pillbox.

"Ramirez! Rifle grenade!" yelled Montgomery.

A US soldier next to Damian grabbed a strange looking explosive device and fixed on the barrel of his gun. He then removed the 5.56 cartridge and put a fake bullet inside it.

The soldier jumped from his cover, his rifle on his hips, pointed toward the Chinese concrete fortification.

"Fire!" shouted Montgomery.

The soldier pulled the trigger and Damian heard a metallic sound. The grenade at the end of the rifle flew toward the bunker and exploded on the wall.

"Flamethrower! Burn 'em!"

The second soldier with the flamethrower moved towards the bunker, which wall had was carved by the grenade explosion. He stopped a few meters from the bunker, raised his weapon and a long tongue of fire spurted out of the nozzle of the flamethrower, rushing into the bunker's opening.

Despite the surrounding din, Damian could hear the agonizing cries of burned Chinese soldiers rushing out of the bunker. The concrete structure exploded, allowing the Americans to move on.

The trench was swarming with Chinese soldiers and it was impossible to take a step without hearing a scream or seeing one come out of nowhere or shoot at Damian and the others.

Damian arrived in one part of the trench, covered by wooden planks that were partly destroyed. Several Chinese soldiers rushed towards him and the members of the Strike Team. Out of the corner of his eye, Damian saw one of the American soldiers bayonetting one of the enemy soldier into the chest.

A bloody hand-to-hand combat ensued, with each soldier grabbing whatever he could get his hands on to fight and kill his opponent. Some American soldiers had given up their rifles for their pistols and trench knives or fought with a small chainsaw sword, while the Chinese wielded pieces of studded wood, swords or used their rifles with bayonets as spears.

Damian heard someone shouting in an unfamiliar language and turned around. One of those Crimson Dragoons was running at him wielding a sword. Damian pointed his weapon at him, but the Chinese commando deflected his rifle and snatched it out of his hands.

Damian jumped back to avoid being cut in half and tried to grab his pistol. The Chinese soldier struck again and disarmed him. He delivered a vertical blow, but his sword got stuck in a beam in the dugout.

As he tried to pull his sword out of the wood, Damian grabbed his trench knife and rushed to the Chinese commando. He punched them in the face and the spiked knuckle guard broke the orange visor on his helmet. The Crimson Dragoon staggered backwards before Damian stabbed him in the stomach with his dagger. The Chinese soldier collapsed on the sticky ground of the trench and his body disappeared in a bright bluish light.

Damian turned around and saw another enemy soldier come at him, this time with a bayonet. Damian, in a reflex, parried the blow with his hand. He felt his body tremble as the blade pierced his hand. The Chinese soldier grabbed his throat and began to squeeze. Damian stuck his knife into the soldier's chest and then smashed his face with the knuckles.

By killing his opponent, Damian had also made his weapon disappear. Where the bayonet had entered, only a large and painful bloody wound remained. Damian put away his knife and picked up his pistol. He also wanted to pick up his assault rifle but using it with only one hand would be a handicap. He could always count on Montgomery and his invincibility and unlimited ammunition, but something told him that the simulation wasn't going to let him.

All the Chinese were dead and only Damian, Montgomery and two other American soldiers remained. The ground in the trench was covered in blood and mixed with the soup of mud and slush in which the soldiers were wading.

The trench came out inside of a small ruined town. A labyrinth of rubble, barbed wire, pillboxes, tank traps and concrete blocks.

A pillbox guarded the entrance to the trench, and from the opening Damian could see the flashes of Chinese machinegun fire. A new wave of American soldiers arrived from the side, and the newly arrived flamethrower soldier fire his weapon to the bunker.

Damian raised his head. Seeing that the bunker was destroyed and that no more shots were coming from that direction, he stood up and walked out of the trench. The only way forward was through a small ruined house occupied by several Chinese soldiers, including a sniper.

Damian took cover behind one of the anti-tank concrete blocks, immediately imitated by the other soldiers. Amidst the gunfire and artillery explosions, Damian could hear the roar of an engine. He looked up again and saw a Vertibird passing over them. The aircraft turned around and fired a series of rockets at the Chinese position.

The American soldiers around Damian got up and rushed in. On the other side, Damian could see the Vertibird slowly approaching the ground. The aircraft remained about two meters above the ground and the side doors opened, revealing a row of soldiers in T-51b power armor.

The soldiers, all equipped with heavy weapons, jumped into the snow and the Vertibird rose again into the sky.

It was impossible for Damian to reach them due, to a large row of barbed wire and he had to pass through another ruined house and reach the destroyed pillbox.

Damian came up against the blue wall of the simulation, which separated him from a large snow field, where several pillboxes had been built and where small mounds of snow had formed too evenly to be natural. On each mound, Damian noticed a small bluish lamp flashing at regular intervals and the field was sometimes lit by electric arcs. The field ended at the foot of a large, partially unscathed industrial compound where several Chinese flags were fluttering in the wind.

Damian joined the soldiers in power armor. Equipped with flamethrowers or miniguns, they sliced through the Chinese ranks with great ease. Damian had the opportunity to observe them in a little more detail. Their shiny new armor would have made the armor of the Brotherhood or the Outcast look like antiques or pieces of scrap metal recovered from a dump.

Seemingly impervious to bullets, the soldiers advanced with their heavy footsteps, while firing at anything that looked remotely like an enemy soldier. Damian thought back to the soldiers of the Enclave and their model of power armors. He had to fire several rounds of ammunition before he could hope to break through the thick layer of steel. In the simulation, the soldiers in T-51b seemed invulnerable, but Damian suspected that it must have been a script in the simulation to make it easier for the subject to believe that one of these soldiers was worth an entire army on its own.

Damian noticed that the owners of the power armor had all been given nicknames, willingly or unwillingly, each one more poetic or ridiculous than the other.

_"Creeping Death", "Sledgehammer", "Widow Maker", "Conqueror", "Mr. Sandman"_ or _"Frosty the Snowman"_, all names and nicknames that would have been easy to find their way into a lousy pre-war action movie.

Damian stood back with Montgomery and watched the carnage that these real human tanks left in their wake.

They eventually made their way out of the ruined city and arrived in front of the Pulse Field. Sheltered in a small ditch, Damian looked around him as the T-51b soldiers finished destroying an enemy pillbox with a flamethrower.

One of the soldiers in power armor came a little too close to the Pulse Field. Several electric arcs sprang from the ground and fell on him. Caught in the lightning storm, the soldier was shaken with spasms and jolts before collapsing into the snow, smoke billowing from his body.

"We've got to destroy that damn Pulse Field, or all the guys we lost today will have died for nothing," cried Montgomery.

Damian noticed a small metal tower with several antennas on the roof of a steel bunker. He headed there with Montgomery. Around him, other American soldiers were coming and taking up positions in the ditch. The Chinese artillery fire was weaker than in the initial assault, but the shells continued to fall on the trenches behind them.

The bunker served as a command post for the Pulse Field and was guarded by two Chinese soldiers, quickly eliminated by Montgomery. A large console with inscriptions in Chinese had to regulate the power of the impulse field. Not seeing an _"on/off"_ button, Damian grabbed his pistol and fired several rounds into the console, which lit up in a shower of sparks.

Damian heard a rumble and looked through one of the opening. The entire snowfield surrounding the refinery and industrial complex lit up blue as small explosions accompanied by electrical arcs spread.

A series of shouts of joy from the ditch reached Damian and he turned his head to see the American soldiers charging towards the industrial complex. Several sporadic shots emanating from the walls surrounding the refinery hit some of the soldiers but the advance continued until they were within a few meters of the surrounding wall.

Damian left the bunker and headed towards the Chinese HQ. He had expected more resistance from the simulation. He perceived a white flash from the refinery walls and saw a small nuclear mushroom appear where the heavy steel door was supposed to be. Soldiers in power armor had blown the entrance with a Fat-Man and were rushing into the enemy headquarters where gunfire exchanges were beginning to take place.

Damian in turn entered the industrial complex. He entered a small inner courtyard at the foot of a large concrete building, next to which were fuel tanks and red and white factory chimneys.

All the soldiers present were unaware of this and were fighting all over the courtyard. The soldiers in T-51b had traded their heavy weapons for gigantic steel sledgehammers and used them to hit the Chinese soldiers.

In front of him, next to a metal pole with a red flag with a small yellow star, Damian noticed a Chinese soldier who was different from the others. He was wearing a Chinese camouflage outfit and several stars had been sewn on his shoulders. He wore a large khaki cap stamped with a red star.

The Chinese commander, whom Damian identified as General Jingwei, the commander-in-chief of the Chinese People's Army in Alaska, was fighting with an American soldier. He pierced him with his sword and withdrew the blade in an overly theatrical gesture and turned to Damian.

Jingwei pointed at him and began talking to Damian in English with a strong Chinese accent. Damian raised his pistol and shot him in the head. The Chinese commander collapsed backwards before disappearing in a blue flash. If, as Damian suspected, the simulation would end when the Chinese commander was dead, then he would not wait for the Chinese commander to start yelling at him.

All activity around Damian ceased. The American and Chinese soldiers stopped fighting and stood still, like robots in a standby idle. The shell explosions and the exchange of fire in the trenches had ceased. Only the slight whistling of the wind and Damian's footsteps in the snow that looked around him remained.

"Well done soldier. A damn fine job."

Damian turned around and saw Chase, his cigar at the corner of his lips, flanked by two soldiers in power armor, which had just materialized behind him.

"Am I done? Damian asked. "Am I done with the simulation?"

Chase's face showed a stern expression and he quickly took his cigar out of his mouth and waved it authoritatively in front of Damian.

"Sounds like you have a slight problem with your attitude, soldier. And the simulation's going to kick your ass to fix it. But yes, it's over."

At these words, Damian let out a sigh of relief and a smile appeared on his face, reinforcing Chase's displeased look even more.

"Anyway," the General continued. "You have completed your training. Now report to your unit leader. Dismissed."

Chase's speech was barely finished when Damian's vision became blurry. A blinding white light forced him to close his eyes, while the industrial complex, the ice and snow fields, the trenches and soldiers around him, slowly disappeared.

* * *

**The Anchorage Reclamation simulation is finaly over.**

**The chapter title is a reference to a Sabaton song ("Fields of Verdun"). The rifle grenade I described works like the M1 Garand and MAS 49 (the french M14 for those who don't know what it is). No idea if the FO3 assault rifle would be able to work like that or if it would be an underbarrel GL like an M203.**

**Next time, we will see the Operation Anchorage DLC ending.**


	23. Chapter 23: The ghost town

**Please enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

The white light gradualy faded away. Damian was in the simulator pod, inside the Outcast outpost. The pod lid split in two and opened. Damian struggled to get out of the pod and ripped off the cables connected to his suit.

His head was spinning, and he was nauseous. He blinked several times and felt a hand touching his arm. He startled and raised his fist to fight back.

"Take it easy. It's over," said a calmly a woman's voice.

Damian looked around and saw all the soldiers and scribes of the Outcast gathered in the room with him. A faint wave of almost inaudible murmurs passed through them as they watched Damian, and he thought he saw some of them exchanging small bags of bottle caps. He relaxed and looked up and saw McGraw's face just in front of him, a slight smile on his face.

"I never thought I'd see a savage complete the simulation," he said.

His remark raised several nods or giggles from the other Outcast.

"But you did it, and I have to say that I'm glad you did. Now all you have to do is open the arsenal, and if the records are right, there will be enough technology inside for all of us."

Damian just nodded his head. He would have wanted to take a few moments to rest. He got up and lost his balance. Olin caught him by the arm and helped him sit down.

"What's the matter with him?" McGraw asked, looking visibly preoccupied.

"The side effects of the simulation are starting to show", Olin answered.

"What are they?" McGraw asked.

"Loss of balance, and a terrible headache," answered the woman.

It took Damian several minutes to recover. In that time, he could see McGraw and his men staggering impatiently. Damian didn't know how long they had waited for someone to finish the simulation, but McGraw would wait a few more minutes for him to fully recover.

Damian had also lost all sense of time. He had the impression that the simulation had lasted no more than a few hours, but Olin informed him that he had been in the pod for a whole day.

Damian finished putting on his armor and walked, under the impatient gaze of the Outcast soldiers, to the large armory door at the end of the corridor. He still had a headache, and just looking at the terminal screen to unlock the door required a great deal of effort not to turn a blind eye.

The large metal locks disengaged, and Damian noticed that the members of the Outcast who were not wearing a power armor helmet were holding their breath.

The door slid open to reveal a small room, lit only by the dim red lights of two computer servers and several white neon lights on the ceiling.

In the center of the room, a small pedestal held an authentic t-51b power armor with its winter camouflage.

Damian noted that McGraw invited him in first and he entered the arsenal.

The armor was in perfect condition and no doubt the Outcast would argue over who would have the privilege of wearing it. Damian would have taken it for himself, but he knew that the Outcast would do anything to prevent him from leaving with the armor and he had learned from Sarah that he would have to undergo special training to hope one day to be able to enter and handle a power armor.

Damian didn't know if Sarah had told him the truth or if she had told him this to prevent him from putting one on and running headlong towards the Jefferson Memorial, so he decided to leave it to the Outcast.

The arsenal also had several shelves containing weapons, ammunition and military uniforms.

Damian noticed a large closed briefcase. He opened it and discovered that it contained a Gauss rifle. Next to it were several microfusion cells for the rifle. Damian took the rifle out of the case and took it with him. He was curious to see if a weapon like this could penetrate a power armor.

On another shelf, he found armor similar to the one he had used in the simulation. The Rangers' armor was still in good condition, but Damian decided to take it with him, along with the Crimson Dragoon camouflage gear. Although he didn't plan to wear them, he was planning to leave with them as compensation for his time in the simulation.

As he tried to get the breastplate into his bag, he saw Olin, McGraw and other Outcast members enter the arsenal. After putting the armor in his bag, Damian retrieved some ammunition for his assault rifle and one of those US trench knives with the spiked fist guard.

He finished tying the knife to his leg and stood up to see McGraw in great admiration in front of the power armor. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Sibley and a few other Outcast soldiers standing outside and waving discreetly at each other.

Sibley entered the arsenal and pointed his minigun at McGraw.

"Alright, enough of this!" Sibley shouted.

The soldiers accompanying him had also drawn their weapons and were holding Damian and members of the Outcast in the arsenal at gunpoint.

"Sibley! What the hell are you doing?" McGraw said in disbelief.

"Shut up!" Sibley said. "I'm not going to let a fuckin' savage get away with the tech my men died for."

"Put the gun down, Sibley!" McGraw shouted. "I'm in charge, and I've decided that this person is going to..."

"You're a filthy traitor, McGraw! A fuckin traitor like Lyons and his daughter!"

Sibley fired his minigun and several of his men fired as well. Damian dove behind one of the computer servers in the room. Several Outcast members collapsed, and he saw McGraw draw his laser pistol and take cover from the flood of bullets and laser beams coming down on them.

Damian heard Olin screaming and saw her fall holding her leg. He fired a blind burst over his cover, but the bullets ricocheted off Sibley and his men's power armor.

Sibley's minigun ran out of ammunition and Damian grabbed his new Gauss rifle. McGraw stood up from behind his dugout and emptied the magazine of his pistol at the mutineers. Damian placed Sibley's head in his sights and pulled the trigger.

The Defender's skull exploded, leaving only his lower jaw clinging to his neck. The corpse collapsed backwards in front of the surprised and horrified eyes of the Outcast soldiers.

Damian placed a second mutineer in his sights and fired, but nothing happened. He cursed at himself and bent down to avoid a burst of laser beams in his direction. He hurriedly searched his bag for the energy cells needed for the Gauss rifle and his hand grabbed a grenade instead.

He removed the pin and clumsily threw the explosive towards the door. The detonation shook the walls and forced his opponents to take cover, giving him time to reload his weapon. He straightened up and fired at an Outcast soldier. The projectile from the Gauss rifle hit him in the chest. The man collapsed in a scream, a large hole where the bullet had hit him.

McGraw had grabbed a rifle from one of the shelves and had just eliminated two other Outcast soldiers. The last mutineer looked at the corpses of his companions and got up and headed for the exit before a laser beam hit him in the head.

Silence and dust settled in the bunker. Damian lifted his head from his cover and looked at the bodies of his assailants.

McGraw emerged and walked out of the armory. He walked towards the body and Sibley and watched it silently. Damian heard one of the bunker doors open and he triggered a new energy cell in his weapon.

A dozen Outcast members had just arrived from the surface and surrounded McGraw and the bodies of Sibley and the mutineers.

"What the...? Protector McGraw, are you all right? Defender Sibley... He's... That fuckin savage! He's the one who..."

"Sibley and his squad tried to kill me," McGraw cut him off. "And if it wasn't for this young man, they would've had the upper hand on me."

Damian heard a groan next to him. Olin was sitting against a computer console holding her leg. A bullet had pierced her thigh.

"Don't move," Damian told her.

He reached at his belt pouch and pulled out a Stimpak and a bandage. While McGraw explained the situation to the other Dissidents, who were obviously unconvinced, Damian helped Olin up and took her out of the arsenal where another Outcast who had survived the shootout, helped him carry her to McGraw's office.

McGraw entered a few moments later. He asked the soldier present to leave and remained alone with Olin and Damian.

"I think I owe you some thanking," he sighed. "Without your help, I think we'd all be dead."

Damian remained silent. McGraw followed his gaze and saw that he was staring nervously at the other Outcast in the hallway.

"Don't worry about my men. I've explained to them that you had nothing to do with it, so you're not going to get shot in the back once you're outside, if that's what you're worried about."

Damian thanked him with a nod. He noticed that McGraw was watching his Gauss rifle hanging from his shoulder but the leader of the Outcast said nothing.

"If you'll excuse me," McGraw said. "I've got a hell of a mess to clean up."

He left the office and started barking orders to his men in the bunker.

"Will your leg be okay?" Damian asked, turning to Olin.

The young woman tried vainly not to show that she was in pain.

"Yes. Thank you for your help. I really appreciate it."

A soldier entered the office carrying a first aid kit and approached Olin. Damian walked away and left the bunker.

Damian walked through Megaton's big outer door and automatically headed for his house. The return trip from the Outcast outpost had gone smoothly and Damian was relieved that McGraw's orders not to harm him had been carried out. Looking back, it was hard to believe that soldiers like Sibley, who put the importance of pre-war technology above human life, had ever been associated in one way or another to Lyons and the Brotherhood. He also found it hard to believe that he had survived the simulation.

As he walked through the metro tunnels and through the Wasteland to Megaton, Damian couldn't get the images of the fighting he had seen in the simulation out of his mind. He was still suffering from the side effects of the simulation, and all he wanted to do was to lie down on his bed and sleep for several days.

When he arrived in front of his house, he came across a young blonde woman, not much older than him, wearing black jeans, a sleeveless leather jacket and a white T-shirt, leaning against the railing overlooking the crater. When she heard Damian approaching, she turned around and walked towards him with a determined step. The young woman's face was familiar, as Damian had already met her at Moriarty's when he arrived in town, but he didn't know her name.

"Are you Damian Franklin?" the young woman asked before Damian could open the door to his house. "Are you the one who often travels out of town?"

Damian looked at the young woman. She was a little older than him, had tied long blond hair and blue eyes and was quite attractive.

"Who wants to know?" Damian asked in a slightly annoyed tone.

All he wanted was to sleep until his headache disappeared and he didn't want to engage in a discussion with anyone.

"Me," replied the young woman in the same scathing tone as he used. "I need your help with a delivery."

"I don't feel like playing courier, at least not in this life, sorry," Damian replied, unlocking the door of his house.

"Please..."

Damian stood still for a few seconds. He sighed when he saw the young woman's imploring eyes and cursed his kindness and bad habit of helping every people he would meet.

"I need more details before I can make up my mind," he finally said, turning to the young woman.

She smiled and rummaged through the lining of her jacket. She pulled out a small yellowed envelope sealed with a little red wax from one of the pockets.

"I would like you to bring this note to my family. They live northwest of here."

Damian had never been too far North of the Capital Wasteland and didn't know what he might find beyond the Springvale Hills.

"I'll tell you more if you agree. Please, I really need you to help me.

"All right," Damian replied after a brief silence.

"Thank you," said the young woman visibly relieved. My family lives in Arefu North of Megaton, near the Potomac, but I haven't heard from them for two months now and I'm getting worry."

"Do you think your family is in trouble?" Damian asked, grabbing the envelope the young woman handed him.

The young woman bit her lip. She was worried and it didn't take a body language expert to tell. Whatever theories she could have imagined, there was a good chance that the death of her family was at the top of the list.

"No... Not really. In fact, I'm not sure what to expect," she said, without really believing it herself. "Maybe it's my letters that aren't coming in, but... I'll be reassured if you bring them this letter and then come back to see me."

Damian nodded. He activated his Pip-Boy's map and approached the young woman.

"You can show me Arefu on my map?"

The young woman looked at the small screen a few moments before pinpointing at a road on the map with her index finger.

"Here. You can't miss the spot. Arefu is built on an old highway bridge over the river."

"Anything else you need to know?" asked Damian, turning off the screen.

The young woman explained to Damian that there were a total of 7 people living in Arefu. The young woman's parents and younger brother, a young couple, a single woman and a man named Evan King, who served as town's Sheriff.

"One more thing," Damian asked. "You didn't tell me your name. I don't think showing up at your parents' house without knowing who to talk to or sent me is going to help."

"Oh, yes, sorry. My name is Lucy. Lucy West."

"All right, Lucy. I'll head to Arefu tomorrow at dawn."

"Thank you so much," said the young woman smiling at Damian, visibly relieved.

Lucy gave a brief description of her parents and of her younger brother, Ian, before thanking Damian again and walking away.

Damian returned home and was greeted by Wadsworth who was dusting the stairs.

"_It's good to see you again, sir."_

Damian grumbled an answer and dropped his bag in the hallway and fell on the couch. He had furnished his house with some furniture and trinkets, bought from Moira. She had not forgotten that Damian had been to the Super-Duper Mart at her request and when he had come back from the Citadel, she had literally jumped on him and bombarded him with questions. Once the interrogation was over, Damian had been offered a new task for the book. Expose himself to high levels of radiations. Damian had cut short the conversation by telling Moira that he would think about it, to which the young woman had replied with disappointment.

Damian had thought that bringing a irradiated subject back to her would be more prudent, but he realized that he would probably end up with radiation poisoning himself and had kept Moira's offer in the back of his mind.

Lulled by the faint whistle of Wadsworth's engines, Damian sank into a deep sleep, the images of the Anchorage fighting mingling with those of the shootings in the Wastes before disappearing.

The next morning, Damian left Megaton and headed North. He walked through the ruins of Springvale and passed a ruined school. Rumor had it that a rather large group of Raiders had taken up residence here, watching Megaton for the time being in preparation for a possible attack. Damian went around the place and went down the hill until he was about twenty meters from the river. On the other bank he could see a small group of three Mirelurks. The mutated crabs were standing guard in front of their nests and were feeding on the corpse of a dog.

After about half an hour, Damian arrived in sight of a small pre-war town. The place seemed occupied, judging by the wooden and metal barricades around some of the houses and the column of smoke that rose from the center of the town. The small wooden houses were the same as the Springvale ranch, a small porch at the entrance and windows caulked with wood panels, boards or newspapers.

Damian approached with caution. If, as he feared, Arefu had been wiped out two months ago, then perhaps these people could inform him, hoping that they were not responsible and were not going to shoot him on sight.

He bypassed the barricades and arrived at the entrance to the city. Instead of finding a large gate like at Megaton, he found himself facing a crater about five by three meters, filled with dark, foul-smelling water. A wooden and rope bridge allowed him to cross the crater and enter the town. The crater rims all had wooden spikes fixed in the ground and car wrecks, piles of tires and empty barrels formed a makeshift barrier around it, forcing anyone wanting to enter the town to use the bridge. A perfect bottleneck in case of attack but also in case of escape.

At the other end of the crater, Damian saw two small walls of sandbags behind another row of wooden spikes and, sitting on an old plastic chair, a man wearing a leather suit and a helmet with a plexiglass visor. Anyone with any kind of shooting skills could have easily eliminated him by positioning himself a little further up the hill.

The man got up quickly, grabbed a bolt-action rifle in poor condition and addressed Damian in a trembling voice.

"Halt! Who are you?"

"Calm down," Damian replied, raising his hands slowly. "I mean you no harm. I'm just a simple traveler."

The man took a quick glance behind Damian looking for a presence. He wasn't as dumb as he looked.

After carefully scanning the surroundings, he lowered his gun and quickly signaled Damian to cross the bridge.

"Well, you're not a Super Mutant and you don't look like a Raider or a slaver, so…"

"_No shit man,"_ Damian thought.

"You are either really brave or completely oblivious to venture out here alone," said the man as he sat down and scanned the horizon again.

"What, what's so special about this place?" Damian asked, looking at the Wastes.

"Super Mutants!" said he man, unconsciously raising his voice. "And the Raiders and the slavers of Paradise Falls! They're all over those hills to the North!"

Hearing this was not a very good news. If there really were Raiders, slavers and mutants around here, then Lucy West had all the reasons to fear for her family in Arefu.

Damian had heard about groups of slavers before, and was amazed in a bad way, that it was a very flourishing business in the Capital Wasteland, according to some travelers he had met in Megaton. He was also convinced that the Super Mutants only occupied the ruins of D.C. but behind the man's plexiglass visor, Damian could see the look of someone who have seen these abominations a little too closely and a little too often.

Suddenly the man jumped up and grabbed a pair of binoculars and quickly brought them to his eyes. After a few seconds, he sighed and lowered the binoculars.

"Nervous?" Damian asked, crouching behind the sandbags.

"That's an understatement. We get attacked all the time. In turn, it's the slavers, then the Super Mutants and Raiders come to try to get the leftovers. Big Town's about to become a ghost town."

Damian looked over his shoulder. He saw two silhouettes a little further on, that of a woman sitting facing the barricade and apparently looking through a small hole in the barricade and that of a man walking nervously with a small revolver in his hands.

"I'm heading to Arefu," said Damian turning his head to the guard and the Wasteland. "Heard anything about the place recently?"

"No, can't say I have," replied the guard. "I know it's a bit further North from here, but frankly, we have too much shit do deal with to care about the rest of the Wastes."

Damian tilted briefly his head, silently agreeing with the man.

"You'd better leave quickly," said the guard, his eyes still on the horizon. "Otherwise, you're going to get snatched by the Super Mutants, just like our friends in the last attack. Poor guys, I can't imagine what they'll do to them."

Damian raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Apparently, the Super Mutants were not just killing everything they came across. They also took prisoners, too, but God only knows why.

"Your friends were abducted by these monsters? When did they take them?"

"This morning," said the man. "I was on my way to guard duty when they stormed into town and broke down some doors before they left with Red and Shorty. Poor Timebomb tried to escape... Those monsters practically pulverized him.

"And you don't have a doctor to treat him or anything to fight back with?"

"Red's our doctor, and she got abducted. Without her, Timebomb's doomed, and as for defending ourselves... We'll be faster off shooting ourselves in the head."

Damian stood up. The man looked at him briefly before turning his attention anxiously to the Wastes. Damian walked towards the center of the city. The houses all had small signs beside the door. On one of them Damian could read the word _"Red" _written in white paint. He knocked on the door. Seeing that no one answered, he looked around and went in.

Inside, a young man was lying unconscious on an operating table. Damian saw several bandages on his body. The man had received multiple gunshot wounds and it seemed that some of his limbs were broken. Upon further examination, Damian realized that he would probably die soon.

Damian searched the house and gathered all the medical supplies he could find and began to treat him as best he could. He heard the door open behind him and a woman's voice called out to him.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in Timebomb?"

Damian turned around. A young African American woman with a leather outfit and brown hair in a ponytail, had just entered and alternated her gaze between Damian and the unconscious man.

"Your friend needs a doctor, doesn't he?" Damian said, putting his hands in the air.

The woman opened her mouth and immediately closed it again. Damian pointed to the wounded man with a gesture.

"Your friend will die if I don't help him."

The woman did not answer, and Damian slowly continued to treat the man's wounds, keeping an eye on the woman and the BB gun she had on her shoulder. After a few minutes, he stepped back and wiped his blood-covered hands on a cloth.

"It's okay, he should be all right now."

Damian wasn't as good a doctor as his father had been, but he knew how to treat most injuries. As if to support his words, the grimace on the man's face disappeared, giving way to a more peaceful expression. The young woman rushed to his bedside, convinced that her friend had just died. She let out a long sigh of relief when she noticed that the man's chest was rising and falling at regular intervals as he breathed. Damian looked at them briefly and returned to the entrance of the city.

"Your friend is off the hook," he told the guard.

"What, but... How?"

"I treated his wounds. He won't be able to walk for a while, but he'll live."

"Why… Why did you help him?" the man asked.

Damian wasn't sure what to answer to that and the thankfully, the guard did not insist.

"Where did the Super Mutants who kidnapped your friends go?" Damian asked as he checked the chamber of his assault rifle.

The sentry pointed to a point on the horizon.

"They always come from that direction and that's where they leave after each attack."

Damian crossed the bridge, under the surprised gaze of the guard. Never could he have imagined that one day, a young man could enter Big Town and without warning, set out to save his captive friends from the greatest threat of the Capital Wasteland. Anyone else would have run for their lives when they heard the Super Mutants were in the area, but he didn't. Whoever this young man was, the sentry thought, he was a blessing.

Helping Big Town would mean that Lucy West would have to wait a little while for her letter to reach its destination, but Damian wanted to check if the Super Mutant did not have anything to do with Arefu and the lack of response to Lucy's letters.

Damian headed North, following approximately the direction the sentry had told him to go. A landscape of hills and small rocky formations appeared before his eyes. A large steel structure mounted on pylons stretched through the area. The remains of a monorail. Parts of it had collapsed and Damian noticed a stationary train suspended several meters above the ground.

The road he was following passed under the monorail and near an old wooden chapel. Damian heard voices and approached cautiously. He glanced out one of the windows and saw two Super Mutants inside, as well as a man, locked in a cage made of two supermarket shopping carts strapped on each other. Damian adjusted his rifle, stood up and fired.

The two mutants fell to the ground, incapable of reacting. After making sure the coast was clear, Damian entered the chapel. The man looked at him in a daze, only to realize that he was about to be set free.

"Oh, thank God! Thank you!" he cried.

Damian broke the makeshift lock and opened the cage.

"Are you one of Big Town's people?" Damian asked.

"No," the man replied. "I was part of a caravan that..."

"Yeah, okay. Do you know where the mutants were going to take you?"

"No... Wait, yes! I think one of the mutants talked about a place called Germantown. I think it's a little further down the road."

Damian nodded his head. The man gathered up some things and left on his own.

Germantown was a small pre-war town in ruins. The Super Mutants may not be the smartest creatures in the Wastes, but some of them were intelligent enough to understand the strategic interest that a collection of ruins on a hillside could offer. Damian had no way of seeing what was behind the destroyed walls of the houses and buildings surrounding the city. Further West, Damian could see columns of smoke rising from a large group of buildings, encircling a large human-looking statue with his right hand raised.

Damian walked along the side of the road and entered the town. The only building still standing was a police station, surrounded by a fence and large sandbag walls. Behind the gates, Damian noticed tents in shades of khaki. The corners of the building were decorated with twisted metal posts with barbed wire wrapped around them, holding human skeletons or rotting corpses in place. Damian could see a small group of Super Mutants on another hill a little further up. He crept towards the fence and entered the building courtyard.

The police station courtyard was filled with tents. When Damian investigated one of them, he could see tables, chairs, and a few beds without mattresses. The police force or the army probably used the place as a command post just after the bombing. Seeing the extent of the damage to the landscape, Damian found it hard to believe that anyone outside of a Vault could have survived, but the few notes he read in one of the tents confirmed that the army had tried to maintain some semblance of order after the bombs fell.

Damian inspected the outside of the police station. The main door was ajar and showed a huge concrete block, preventing it from being opened. He went around the building and found an emergency exit, but the door was locked from the inside. At the back of the building, he discovered that part of it had collapsed. He went inside and climbed up the debris and remains of a stairwell before finding a door. Damian slowly turned the handle and glanced inside. A dark corridor stretched out in front of him. Damian quietly pushed the door open and closed it behind him.

The inside of the police station was almost pitch black. The only source of light came from cracks in the walls and ceiling or from poorly caulked windows that let daylight in. To his right was a small room, furnished with wooden shelves, tables and a few broken computers.

A guttural voice resounded in a room a little further on. Damian listened and tried to decipher what the voice was saying.

"The female is locked in. We're going to take her back with us. The little brown one is downstairs. Not many people left in Big Town."

"So?" asked another guttural voice.

"Find others. Somewhere else. We need more prisoners."

The two Super Mutants laughed for no apparent reason. Damian heard them walking and he entered the office to his right. The two mutants stomped past his hiding place and left the building. They were certainly talking about Red and Shorty. Damian left the office where he was hiding and began to search the other rooms. Everything seemed to have been left as it had been since the police station was abandoned. Desks with piles of reports, posters and placards, which had become illegible over time, on the walls. The only clue to the presence of Super Mutants was an old conference room. The big long table was still there, but instead of finding police reports Damian found human remains. Limbs or organs, crammed into large nets, covered with flies. An unbearable smell permeated the walls and it was not due to the mold on the walls.

The police station was quite small. The search of this floor yielded nothing, and Damian took a stairwell to the ground floor. Only one Super Mutant was standing guard, sitting in the lobby and eating a Radroach that still looked alive. Damian sneaked through the old emergency call center and after crossing another corridor, arrived at the cells. In the largest cell, Damian saw a woman sitting on a mattress on a metal bed. She was African American, with short black hair, her forehead resting on her knees and her face buried in her arms. She was wearing a bright red bandanna and a work suit with rolled up sleeves of the same color. Damian looked towards the entrance where the Super Mutant was. He could hear the mutant's unpleasant chewing sounds.

Damian then looked around and picked up a small piece of concrete as big as his thumbnail and threw it through the bars towards the woman. The woman, attracted by the rock that landed on her thigh, raised her head and her eyes widened when she saw Damian. Her jaw dropped as she awkwardly stood up and walked towards the bars of the cell. Damian put his index finger on his lips to tell the woman to be quiet.

"It's you Red," he whispered, getting as close as he could.

The woman nodded her head.

"Yes, but who are you?"

"We'll talk later. Your friends in Big Town told me you were here."

"Oh my God, you're here to save me? Thank you!"

Underneath the emotion, Red had spoken a little too loudly. Damian put his hand through the bars and covered the woman's mouth. With his other hand, he motioned to her again not to make a sound. The Super Mutant didn't seem to hear, and Damian took his hand away, breathing out to let out the stress.

"Are you alone in here?" Damian asked.

"Everyone else is dead... When they take you down there, you don't come back."

Damian stepped back a little and began to inspect the cell block.

"Oh, but what about Shorty, did you see him?"

"I only found you," Damian replied, looking more closely at the lock.

It was an electronic lock, connected remotely to a terminal. The kind you can't break into with bobby pins and a screwdriver. Damian could still blow it up with a grenade, but he could say goodbye to discretion.

"They took him to the kitchen downstairs just before we arrived. It must have been two or three minutes ago, no more. You've got to go and rescue him."

Damian sighed. He thought about leaving Red in the cell while he went to get Shorty, but she would be a very easy target for the mutants, locked in that cell, if Damian had to use his weapon.

"Can you find your way back to Big Town on your own?"

"I... Yeah, but..."

The terror could be seen in Red's eyes. The thought of being alone in the Capital Wasteland and having to return to Big Town on her own terrorized her.

"Look, I'm gonna go get your friend, but I can't leave you here. You're coming with me, but you'll have to listen to me."

Red seemed relieved. She nodded frantically. Damian had a vague idea what he might find downstairs in that _"kitchen»,_ but he preferred not to think about it. He investigated the cell block and saw a desk with a terminal. He approached it. The terminal was on. Better yet, it was working and seemed to have been used recently. He was surprised that the Super Mutants had the intellectual capacity to use it.

_"No wonder the Brotherhood is having such a hard time dealing with mutants if they continue to think they're mentally retarded, just good enough at shooting and smashing things."_ Damian thought.

The only option available in the terminal was called _"Emergency Cell Activation"_. Damian pressed a key on the keyboard. A metallic squeaking sound echoed throughout the precinct as the cell doors opened. Immediately, Damian heard the Super Mutant's guttural voice and a heavy series of footsteps moving towards them.

The Super Mutant entered the cell block and saw Damian still in front of the terminal. The monster uncovered a row of rotten teeth and grabbed the assault rifle he was carrying. Damian fell to the ground. He heard the bullets hit the desk and the wall above him.

The flood of bullets stopped, and Damian risked a glance. The Super Mutant was looking at his gun and punching the ejector, giving Damian a golden opportunity to raise his rifle and shoot the monster with a burst.

More footsteps converged on them. Damian stayed behind the desk and pointed his gun at the front door. A Super Mutant entered the room. He looked down at his companion lying on the floor and received a burst to the back of the head. A second mutant entered. This time he checked the corners of the room and saw Damian ready to shoot him. He swung his weapon, but it wasn't fast enough. He slid against the doorframe, leaving a red mark in his wake.

Damian loaded a new magazine and waited. No sound reached him. His ears were whistling slightly. He ventured to the entrance of the room and after listening for a few seconds, decided the way was clear.

"It must have been the last ones," he said, turning to check on Red.

The woman shyly left the cell and quickly joined him. That's when Damian heard footsteps walking towards them. He stepped back and a second later he saw a figure burst into the room. Instinctively, Damian pointed his rifle at the newcomer but held back his finger. A nervous looking young man, his hands tied by a large rope, was facing him.

"Shorty!"

Red rushed towards the young man and took him in her arms.

"I thought you were dead," said the woman, continuing to hold her friend against her.

"I thought I was a goner, Red. When they brought me down and I saw all those bodies... My God... I thought it was the end."

"We've got to get out of here," Damian intervened as he grabbed his knife and freed Shorty from the rope. "The shots will probably bring a lot of unwelcomed guests."

"All right, we'll follow you," Red nodded.

They left the cell block. Ironically, the door leading to the outside was right next to the cell block. Damian removed the wooden bar that served as a lock and opened the door. They arrived in the courtyard of the police station. After a few meters, Damian cursed and pushed Red and Shorty behind the police station sign. The shooting had attracted a small group of mutants who were heading towards them.

A bullet whistled near Damian's ears and he took cover behind a collapsed wall. The Super Mutants stood between them and Big Town. Damian engaged in a deadly cat-and-mouse game that lasted several long minutes. Red and Shorty were on his heels as he slalomed through the walls of the destroyed buildings to avoid the shots. From time to time Damian would return fire, injuring or killing one of his assailants.

The battle lasted several minutes, during which Damian hoped inwardly not to come face to face with the Super Mutants and engage in hand-to-hand combat, as he had to do in the Anchorage simulation.

Damian let out a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. The last Super Mutant had just fallen to the ground. The grenade the mutant was holding had bounced back on a wall and exploded on its face.

He turned to Red and Shorty and tilted his head, inviting them to follow him.

* * *

**The Operation Anchirage DLC is over. I kinda liked this DLC, not the best on but not the worst DLC I played for Fallout and gear wise, you could get some nice stuff.**

**Hope you enjoyed and until next time.**


	24. Chapter 24: Family

**Hello, everyone, hope you are all doing well. Today, we end the Big Town rescue and move further on the mission given by Lucy to Damian. Please enjoy.**

* * *

"Thank you! Thank you so much for rescuing us!"

Damian turned around to see Red approaching him with a small leather purse. Damian, Shorty and Red, had ran all along from Germantown to here. They had just entered Big Town and all the inhabitants had come out to greet them.

"Here, this is to thank you. Without you, we'd be dead, or worse!"

Damian took the purse in his hands. He untied the string and poured the contents into his hand. There must have been at least the equivalent of 300 caps. Damian put half of them in his bag and put the rest back in the pouch before handing it to Red. Without saying a word, he insisted that she take it back. A broad smile appeared on her face.

"Super Mutants!"

Damian looked over his shoulder. A group of five mutants with studded sticks and rifles were walking down a hill towards the city.

"We're going to get slaughtered! This is the end!" cried one of the Big Town inhabitants.

"Do you have any weapons?" asked Damian.

Red looked surprised at Damian.

"Do you have any weapons?" he repeated.

"Yes... Uh... Dusty has a gun and I think Kimba, Flash and..."

"Okay, stand in front of the bridge and do exactly as I say!"

Damian drew his assault rifle and ran to the sandbags. The inhabitants of Big Town looked at him in amazement before a few people reacted and went to join him. The weapons were more than rudimentary. Dusty, the guard Damian had talked to before leaving for the police station, had an old rusty rifle and the others had pistols or revolvers.

"Now, hold your gun firmly and aim it at the chest or head! Exhale before each shot! Control your shots, or you will miss your target," Damian said.

Crash course in weapons handling ended when the Super Mutant fired at Damian and the others. The young man raised his rifle and fired three shots, hitting the Mutant in the abdomen and throat. The other Super Mutants were charging towards the bridge. At first the Big Town's folk panicked, but after a few successful shots, the locals became confident and eventually eliminated the mutants.

"I don't believe it! We did it!"

The cries of joy came from everyone in Big Town. Some hugged each other, while others cautiously approached the dead bodies of the Super Mutants for a closer look.

"Thank you! Thank you so much! You saved us at the police station and helped us defend ourselves! Now the mutants will think twice before coming back!"

Shorty patted Damian on the back before making a shy expression.

"Tell me, do you know a place called Arefu? Damian asked.

"I think it's North of here, but I've never been there and don't know exactly where it is," said Shorty.

Damian watched him walk away. He sighed sadly. The inhabitants of Big Town had gained a little confidence, two of them had avoided being devoured by the mutants and their houses hadn't been burned to the ground by the attack that followed. However, Damian knew that the attacks would continue and that one day the whole town would be a mass grave occupied by Super Mutants or Raiders. He didn't have the heart to tell them, however, and Red and her companions were already fully aware of that. Damian quietly slipped away as the town celebrated its victory over the mutants.

Arefu wasn't very far from Big Town. On an old stretch of highway crossing the landscape, Damian could see houses and some fortifications. At the entrance of the bridge, another hut and a small enclosure with some brahmins.

Damian walked through a small parking lot where rusty car wrecks piled up. Wooden tables and benches were rotting in the open air, not far from a large white metal panel that was half broken. One of the vehicles carried a projector and was parked so that the image was projected onto the metal panel. Noticing the bodies still in the cars or still sitting on the benches, Damian guessed that the place was an open-air cinema. Curious, he quickly searched the pick-up truck that carried the projector, hoping to find a reel that was still in good condition and thus have a reason to buy the projector that Moira was selling. His search came to nothing, so he hit the road again.

Dead silence reigned in Arefu. The Wasteland weren't a very noisy place, of course, but to pass by a town that was supposed to be inhabited and not hear a sound other than the slight whistling of the wind wasn't reassuring. Even Big Town, which not long-ago was at the verge of becoming a ghost town, was a livelier place.

The right-hand lanes of the bridge were the only way to enter the town as the two left-hand lanes had been blocked by piles of debris, tires and burnt-out car wrecks. The town seemed to take its name from an old sign overlooking the road. A word in white lettering was the only thing still a bit legible on the sign, and Damian noticed that a few letters were missing, giving the place its name. Just before he arrived, Damian had also noticed that the highway had collapsed for several meters, just behind the huts. Whether this happened before or after the birth of the town, it was both an advantage and a disadvantage for the inhabitants. Potential attackers would have to attack from the bridge entrance and the height offered another significant tactical advantage thanks to the 360 degrees view of the Capital Wasteland. On the other hand, the inhabitants would find themselves trapped with no other means of escape than to throw themselves off the bridge and land about 30 meters below.

As he watched the wreckage of a bus while moving towards the city, Damian felt a blast a few meters ahead of him. He dove to cover and looked around, looking for an Enclave power armor, Super Mutant or Raider. Instead, he saw an older man, with a greying goatee and wearing a grey cap with goggles, as well as faded jeans and a leather jacket with two bullet belts across his chest, standing behind a wall of sandbags. The man frowned before raising his hands at the sky and shouting at Damian.

"You are not with them! Damn, I almost cut you in half!"

Damian didn't have time to answer or think about what was going on, as the man was already giving him great signs to join him.

"Hurry up! Before they see you!"

Damian got up and approached on the double.

"Alright, tell me what you are doing here?" the man asked authoritatively, once Damian had joined him.

"Why don't you tell me why you tried to blow me up?" Damian replied angrily.

The man clenched his jaw a little. He squinted his eyes and looked at Damian for a moment before answering.

"I thought you were on of the Family. They're a bunch of lowlife gangers who've been giving us a lot of trouble lately. So right now, I've got an itchy trigger finger."

"The Family? What's that? Some kind of Raiders or slavers group?" Damian asked.

The man shook his head.

"No, if that were the case, Arefu would be a burned ghost town. I think they're just a bunch of punks, you know, the kind that make noise, break things, but they never got into town. But last time they killed some of the cattle, just like that for no reason."

Damian noticed that the person he was talking to was constantly staring at the entrance to the bridge.

"What are you so afraid of? Damian asked. "It just seems like another bunch of Raiders to me."

The man sighed.

"There's... There's something weird about these weirdos. It's not right... I mean, they outnumber us and they're better armed than us, so why don't they just come busting through our doors and kill us?"

"Look," said Damian. "If it'll make you feel better, I can go and take a look at the other residents. Anyway, I have to get this letter for Lucy West's family."

Damian grabbed Lucy's letter from inside his armor. The man looked at the letter for a moment, looking suspiciously before nodding his head.

"I have to stay here and watch the ramp in case the Family decides to come. Go and see the West, the Ewers and Karen. Tell them Evan King sent you."

"All right, I'll do that."

Damian felt King's gaze on the back of his neck as he walked to the first house next door. Damian knocked on the door. Almost immediately, a woman's voice answered.

"Yes? Oh, is that the postman? I hope you're finally bringing me this season's catalogue. I've been waiting weeks for it."

"Uh?" Damian said, wondering if the woman was kidding him or if she was serious. "No, Evan King sent me to see if you're okay."

The idea of answering _"Yes, I have your catalogue, let me in"_ or_ "I'm the Family please open the door"_ seemed a funny idea to him but he was sure that King would empty his magazine on him immediately afterwards.

"Oh, Evan? What a gentleman," replied the woman. "Come on in."

Damian heard a series of locks being pulled and saw the door open. He pushed it open and discovered a room inside that contained a kitchen, dining room and bedroom. A man in his thirties with brown hair and wearing jogging pants, boots and a hooded sweatshirt appeared in front of Damian and gave him a nasty look.

"What the hell you think you're doing? Get the hell out of here!"

"Wow, calm down," Damian replied.

The man's eyes flashed lightning and Damian, not intimidated at all, gave him the same look.

"Alright, say what you have to say and leave," the man said finally.

A woman with a squared haircut and wearing the same outfit came forward with a broad smile and a plate with what looked like a cake.

"Oh, my poor darling... Walking in this heat must have made you hungry. Sit down and have a piece of pie."

"Brailee," whispered the man, clenching his teeth and staring at Damian.

"Oh, don't mind my husband, Kenneth," continued the woman, smiling even more. "He woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning."

"I just came to see if you're all right," Damian answered. "Evan King sent me."

"Oh, how nice of him," smiled the woman. "I'll have to think about thanking him. What a pity we have to stay indoors when outside the air is so pure and the grass so green and beautiful to look at."

Damian raised his eyebrows. He looked down at the plate of pie she was holding in her hands and decided that if he took just one small bite, he would become as disturbed as that woman.

"Yeah, we're fine," Kenneth spat. "Now, why don't you leave us alone? And by the way, why don't you tell Mr. King that we're not going to solve the Family problem by sitting on our hands."

"Why don't you go tell him yourself?"

Damian stepped aside slightly and invited the man to follow him outside. The man seemed uncomfortable about leaving his house and noticed that King had heard everything. He looked at Damian again and slammed the door in his face.

Damian was beginning to understand why Lucy West had moved to Megaton. If all the residents and her family were as nasty as this Kenneth or as crazy as his wife, then Lucy had every reason to want to leave this place. Damian arrived in front of a second two-story cabin. Damian heard King inform him that it was his and that he lived alone. Damian nodded his head and walked to another smaller cabin across from King's house. He knocked on the door and a woman's voice answered. After explaining that it was Evan King who sent him to check that everything was okay, the woman invited Damian in.

"It's nice to see a new face in Arefu, even if it's not the best time to come and visit the area."

_"Finally, someone who looks normal,"_ thought Damian as he looked at the blonde young woman in her twenties who lived here alone.

"My name is Karen Schenzy, what's yours?"

"Damian Franklin. King wants me to go around the houses and make sure everyone is all right."

"Well, look, aside from the fact that I'm scared, I'm glad you're here to check up on me. But, that's not going to solve our problem."

"Well, I've got to go and make sure the Wests don't need anything."

Damian turned to the door and for a moment he thought he heard a disappointed sigh from the young woman.

The West's house was the last one in Arefu, right on the edge of the collapsed part of the bridge. Damian grabbed Lucy's letter and knocked on the door. Damian had no answer.

"Mr. West? My name is Damian Franklin. Evan King sent me to check on you and your family, and I also have a letter from your daughter, Lucy."

Still no answer. He knocked again, harder, and felt the lock on the door open. The door opened slowly, and a dreadful smell came from inside and caught him by the throat. Damian covered his face with the inside of his elbow. A buzzing sound from a small cloud of flies reached him from inside the hut.

The West's house consisted of one room. A small table with four chairs, a refrigerator, a metal shelf full of everyday objects, a wardrobe, two bunk beds and a double bed for only furniture. The floor was strewn with crumpled paper and the contents of the table had been turned over. Damian activated the lamp on his Pip-Boy and began to light up the cabin. Blood splashes covered the walls and floor in places and on the back wall, written in blood, _"The Family"_.

Damian noticed that two people were lying in the double bed. Covered with a sheet, the two people did not move. Damian drew his pistol and slowly moved forward. He approached his hand. The smell made him nauseous and it remembered him of the basement of Andale's house.

Damian took off the sheet. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and controlled himself not to vomit. Both people were dead. Their sockets and cheeks were hollowed out and they literally had nothing but skin on their bones. Reluctantly, Damian came a little closer and lit the corpses with his Pip-Boy's lamp. They somehow matched the description Lucy had made of her parents, even though identifying a dried-up corpse like these was difficult. He noticed large bite marks on the throats of both bodies. The wounds were very deep, and it was probably that which killed Mr. and Mrs. West. However, Damian was intrigued by one thing. Although his medical knowledge was far from equal to that of his father or some of the doctors in the Wastes, he had seen enough wounds and dead bodies to know that a wound that deep, inflicted on this part of the human body would have resulted in a very large loss of blood, resulting in death. But in this case, there was no blood, at least not in enough quantity to stick with the wound. Damian also found that the wounds were not animal bites but had been made by a human with sharp canines. The idea made him shudder, but he had to face the facts. Someone had attacked the Wests by biting their throat and that someone had drunk every last drop of their blood. It was the only way to explain the absence of blood on the sheets that covered the corpses and their mummified appearances.

Damian felt a tingling in his neck and nervously massaged his throat. He looked around and saw that something was wrong. He had seen the bodies of Lucy's parents, but he hadn't seen the body of her little brother, Ian. He looked under the beds and even inside the fridge and the wardrobe but found no trace of him.

The inscription on the wall gave place to various hypotheses in his mind. The Wests had been victims of the Family and Ian had run away from them. Yet the fact that the bodies were covered with a sheet made Damian say that it was Ian who had killed his parents and then blamed the Family. But why did he do it? What could have been the reasons for Ian to murder his parents? Lucy had said that she hadn't heard from her family for about two months, but the Wests must have been killed two or three days ago at the most.

Damian went back outside. He closed the door behind him and went back to see Evan King. The man was still standing guard. When he heard Damian coming, he turned his head briefly towards him.

"So, everyone's all right?" he asked nervously without taking his eyes off, the apprehension of discovering some bad news piercing his voice.

"Did you know that the Wests were dead?"

King staggered and leaned against the sandbags. He opened his mouth several times without any sound coming out. The announcement of the news had been made in the most brutal way possible, but Damian did not particularly want to be subtle with King after the reception he had given him.

"Lord," King whispered to himself. "The Family must have gone after them in the last attack. Hell, if there were more of us, we could..."

He raised his head and displayed an expression as if he had just realized something.

"Wait a minute, when you searched the West's house, did you see the whole family?"

"No," Damian replied. "Ian is nowhere to be found and..."

"It must have been the Family that did it!" King shouted without giving Damian time to finish his sentence. "The other night, I caught their leader chatting with Ian by the river. I'm sure they killed Davis and Matilda and that they took Ian to do something to him, I don't know what!"

What King had just said confirmed to Damian that Lucy's parents had been dead for less than two or three days, but it was impossible to say for sure who was really responsible for their death.

King took a deep breath and Damian already knew what he was going to ask him.

"Look, I've asked a lot of you guys already, but... I need you to find this kid. Ian doesn't deserve this."

Damian agreed to the request. Although he was almost convinced that Ian was responsible for his parents' death, referring to the sheets laid on the bodies, he still wanted to understand what made him do it. Moreover, he couldn't go home and tell Lucy that her parents were dead and that her little brother was missing. Nor could he let the inhabitants of Arefu, however unpleasant some of them may be, be terrorized and perhaps massacred by a mysterious band of Raiders."

"Any idea where I can start to look?" Damian asked as he approached the edge of the ramp and looked out over the Desolate Lands.

"I think the Family lives to the East or maybe northeast of here. They always walk around at night and we stay indoors as soon as the sun goes down."

The idea of ending up like the West made Evan King pale and he was probably thinking about how to set traps on his door for the night.

"The area is full of places where they could hide."

King, in turn, approached the ledge and pointed to two locations.

"There's Hamilton's Hideaway behind those rocks and a little further on, the old Moonbeam Outdoor Cinema. Oh, and there's also the Northwest Seneca station across the Potomac," he added, pointing to a place out of sight on the collapsed side of the bridge.

Damian nodded silently. For a moment he observed the Wastes and the points King had shown him.

He had already been to the cinema on his way here and had not noticed any recent human presence. He decided to leave this place aside and head for Hamilton's Hideaway. From there, he could go back up to the metro station and take one last look in the direction of the movie theatre he had passed through.

"What's Hamilton's Hideaway?" Damian asked, looking at the entrance to a cave near the Potomac riverbank.

"It's a small cave but I think it was used as a shelter during the Great War, or so I've heard."

Damian checked the magazine in his rifle and went down the highway ramp.

_"Bite marks on the throat, corpses with not a single drop of blood left, mysterious individuals who only come out at night... What's next? A haunted castle with a giant radioactive bat?" _Damian thought as he walked away.

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**Hope you enjoyed. Until next time.**


	25. Chapter 25: Bounded by blood

**Hello everyone, hope you are all doing well. In today's chapter, Damian continues his search of Lucy's younger brother. What will he find and how will he deal with the Family? Let's find out. Please enjoy.**

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Damian left Hamilton's Hideaway about an hour later. The place had turned out to be an ancient cave system converted into a bunker, as mentioned by King, and was inhabited by a small group of Raiders. The Raiders hadn't caused Damian too much trouble, unlike the dog-sized scorpions that swarmed in parts of the bunker.

Damian had not found anyone resembling Ian and his attempt to interrogate one of the Raiders who was still able to talk had resulted in a series of incomprehensible comments about flying metal monsters.

The Moonbeam Outdoor Cinema was still deserted when Damian watched it from afar. The car wrecks and human bones were still at the same place. He approached the metro station. It was on the other side of the highway, surrounded by small shops still intact. Damian watched the buildings from a distance before approaching.

The small shops were all empty and had been looted several times and no one had set foot in them for years. Damian approached the metro exit and heard a humming sound over his head. He turned around and saw one of the Enclave Vertibird approaching his position. Damian took refuge inside the metro and listened. The aircraft approached and Damian heard it slow down. The engine noises remained for a few seconds before they moved away.

Damian stayed a few seconds, looking at the exit to the surface, his assault rifle ready to fire. The Enclave may have dropped troops to establish an outpost, and they would probably come to secure the area. Damian stayed like this for an indefinite time. No matter how hard he concentrated and tried to pick up any sound, all he could hear was silence. He turned around and used his Pip-Boy to light up the corridor that was sinking underground. Damian began to descend, sweeping every nook and cranny with the faint beam of his Pip-Boy's lamp.

The escalator leading to the station had collapsed. Only a door reserved for the metro maintenance crews allowed to continue. The door was framed by two braziers installed in barrels. Damian approached when the door opened on the fly and two ghouls greeted him at gunpoint. One of the ghouls, wearing glasses and a dirty t-shirt and mesh, raised its eyebrows, stretching what little skin it had left on his face. Slowly, Damian raised his hand and looked at the two ghouls in front of him.

"Huh? Uh... you... you... you're not here to steal my secrets?" said one the male ghoul with glasses.

"What secrets?" Damian asked.

"Well, the recipe for Ultrajet," the ghoul replied.

Damian saw him bite his lip and sighed. The other ghoul, wearing combat armor, looked up to the sky in exasperation.

"Well, if you're not here to steal the recipe, why are you here?" asked the ghoul with the glasses.

"Maybe you can put your weapons down first?" Damian said, his hand still in the air.

"Uh? Oh yeah, sorry. We're a little on edge right now."

"Does it have anything to do with the Family?" Damian asked.

The two ghouls exchanged glances before shaking their heads at the same time.

"What kind of stupid name is that?" asked the ghoul in the battle armor.

"I confess that I don't know either," replied Damian. "I'm looking for them because they may have kidnapped a young man who lives in Arefu."

The ghoul with the glasses looked pensive before answering.

"No, I don't see... We've got enough problems of our own to be interested in those of the smooth-skins."

The ghouls returned inside the office and Damian entered as well.

"What makes you think they're here?" asked the ghoul with the armor.

"Well, I was told they could hide here, so I'm checking," Damian answered.

The ghoul with the armor spread his arms and pointed to the small office where they were. All the paraphernalia of the perfect little chemist was laid out on tables, as well as little boxes of cereal that piled up in a corner of the room.

"It is up to you to judge, if anyone other than us lived here, they would have been stepped on by now, this place is so narrow."

Damian sighed. His research had come up empty. He was about to leave when he noticed a small corridor that the ghouls had condemned with planks of wood.

"What's behind that door?" Damian asked.

The ghoul with the glasses lifted his head from his book and looked at the door.

"This is the access tunnel to the caves."

"And what's in those caves?"

"Stuff that made the door to it barricaded," said the ghoul with the armor.

Damian looked for a moment at the wooden planks when the ghoul with the armor approached with a crowbar.

"If you want to be killed stupidly, you can go, smooth-skin. But I warn you, we'll close up behind it right away, and you won't have to come back crying."

Damian nodded his head. He stepped back until the ghoul removed enough space to let him pass.

"Thank you," Damian said after crossing the opening, but the ghouls had already started to put the planks back in place.

The corridor was not very big. At the end, Damian noticed a hole. He approached and heard his Pip-Boy sizzling. The pointer on his Geiger counter was moving slowly but not alarmingly so far. Damian tilted his rifle over his shoulder, and he lit up the inside of the hole. Below him, was a cave, as the ghouls had said. Damian sighed and dropped himself inside the hole.

He landed on the rocky ground. The cave was narrow and dark and smelled of moisture. Damian walked a few meters before he felt something beneath his feet. He looked down and saw the remains of a brahmin. The bones had been there for a long time, but Damian noticed marks on the bones. He picked up one of the bones and took a closer look. The marks looked different from those on the bodies of the West couple, but it was impossible to be certain.

He continued walking into the cave and could hear water oozing from the walls. He came to a small room with a small underground lake which now served as a nest for the Mirelurks. The small crabs that lived peacefully in the Potomac estuary had become mutant animals the size of a man, occupying almost every stream or pond in the area. Fortunately, the crabs were not present. Damian was reluctant to throw a grenade into the nest, but he knew that sometimes the Mirelurks could hide in the ground and pounce on their prey, almost cutting it in half with their large claws. Damian walked away backwards before continuing into the caves.

After a few minutes, he heard a bang. It came from in front of him. He prepared his rifle and continued forward. The Mirelurks didn't use explosives, or so he hoped. Either he had run into another band of Raiders, or he had found the Family's lair. The cave system was just under a metro tunnel. The ceiling had collapsed and the rails and the train that was on them had fallen into the cave.

Damian entered the train and climbed up the car using the bars to help the passengers hold on. He got out of the train and jumped onto the tracks. The tunnel was lit by burning barrels and the emergency lighting was still working, even after two centuries. Small lamps at the base of the walls, each about ten meters apart, provided a faint red light. The tracks were littered with trash and skulls of dead animals, with the same marks on the bones.

As Damian walked a little further down the tracks, he came across a Mirelurk. The mutated crab was on his back and Damian noticed that his legs had been torn off and that a small burn mark marked the ground where it had been standing. Damian approached cautiously and took a few steps back when he saw the mutant crab move. The crab could no longer stand or walk, but it still managed to wiggle its claws around. Damian saw the creature's eyes turn towards him and heard its mandibles rattle. The Mirelurk wouldn't live much longer and would eventually bleed out and die. Apparently, people were living in the tunnels and had set traps to keep the mutants and intruders from getting too close.

Damian went around it and continued to follow the tracks until he reached a fork in the tracks. Part of the tunnel branched off to the left, while the rest was going straight ahead.

Damian noticed a sign on the wall and dusted it off. He was on the Red Line. From memory, it was the one that crossed the Capital Wasteland from North to South and through the ruins of D.C., passing through the districts of Dupont Circle and Anacostia. If the tunnels hadn't all collapsed, which Damian strongly doubted, he could have made it to Rivet City.

Under the line sign, an inscription indicated by arrows the nearby stations. To the North was the line's train depot and the tunnel branching off to the left and South led to Meresti station. Damian thought for a few moments.

_"If I were the leader of a Raider gang, would I hide out in the open air in a train depot or underground in an old metro station? " _he thought, looking at the two tunnels one after the other.

Meresti station seemed to be the best choice. He went through the tunnel and started walking. After a few minutes of walking in near darkness, Damian stumbled upon another metro train. He squeezed himself between the wall and the train and crept into the small space. He frequently glanced behind him to make sure that a Mirelurk wasn't coming to attack him, although he doubted that a mutant crab was big small to follow him in this confined space. He finally arrived at the front of the car and could jump back on the tracks.

Damian heard a wire twisting at his feet and saw a large object pass in front of his face, and he felt a draft. He heard a shock and stopped. A broken trigger wire was at his feet and was connected to a cable that was swinging a steel beam. The beam had hit the wall just in front of Damian. A few centimeters more and his head would have been smashed to a pulp by the impact.

Damian exhaled gently and directed the light from his Pip-Boy towards the ground. The people who lived in these tunnels really didn't like visitors. Some Mirelurks corpses, all dried up, were lying in the tunnel, probably here for a long time. In total, there were about ten traps that Damian had to avoid or defuse, ranging from a simple trigger wire to an antipersonnel mine. Damian would have liked to disarm it to bring it back to Moira, but he resigned himself to bypass the explosive. Looking back, he still found it hard to believe that he had been able to disarm a nuclear device but was unable to disarm a simple mine.

Damian spotted lights on the other side of a destroyed train blocking the path. He entered the train through one of the doors and looked through the opposite windows. The tunnel was still about ten meters long and Damian could see a small sandbag fortification and braziers further up. He heard the rattling of a gun and crouched into the seat next to him.

"Come out of there, stranger!" a man's voice said. "This place is reserved for the Family! Where do you think you're going?"

Damian was now certain he was in the right place.

"Hey! Are you deaf?"

"Calm down," Damian replied. "I'm coming out."

He got up slowly, spreading his hands away from his rifle. Behind the sandbags he could see a man in a dark green battle armor with a khaki bandanna holding long brown hair and a slight beard. With his eyes squinted, he looked at Damian and pointed a submachinegun in his direction.

"Well," said the man, visibly annoyed at being disturbed during his watch. "What are you doing in these tunnels?"

"I'm looking for a young man, Ian West."

Damian had no reason to lie and the fact that he had not been shot yet, prooved that the Family was maybe not the Raider gang described by Arefu. He noticed that the man raised his eyebrows when he heard the name of Lucy's brother.

"The new guy? What do you want with him?" asked the man.

"I have a letter from his sister."

Damian slowly slipped his hand inside his armor and pulled the envelope out. He lifted it up and twisted it between his fingers to show it to the person he was writing to. The man didn't seem convinced, but he lowered his weapon.

"Mmh, alright, you can go in, but we'll keep an eye on you and you'll have to leave your weapons behind. Ian's here, but to see him, you'll have to talk to Vance first. You should find him on the mezzanine overlooking the common room."

The man stepped back and unlocked a chain-link door on his left. He motioned for Damian to approach. Damian left the train car and approached. The man had set up his guardhouse in the space that allowed former metro employees to move from track to track for maintenance. The sentry watched Damian from the corner of his eye as he unloaded his weapons and bag and walked towards a sliding door leading to a maintenance tunnel.

From there he caught up with another metro tunnel. Unlike the others, this one looked brand new. It was possible to see the effects of time on the walls or rails, but there was no debris or trash, suggesting that the place was regularly and meticulously cleaned. The tunnel was lit by a row of braziers and at the very end Damian could see the station.

The space between the platforms was blocked by wooden planks. Benches and a long table were set up to transform the center of the station into a banquet hall or reception area. At the bottom of the station, access to the tunnels was blocked by barricades and an train car immobilized on the platform. A large concrete platform with escalators allowed access to the corridors leading to the surface. The area was lit by a series of lanterns attached to stakes in the ground or suspended from the concrete barrier of the mezzanine.

Damian climbed onto the platform and after a few steps heard a whistle to his right. He turned his head and saw a female figure in the dark. The woman was leaning against the metal pillar of an old kiosk. She walked towards Damian, who noticed that she was the same age as him. She had fairly short red hair. She was extremely attractive, and Damian took his eyes off the young woman's face and noticed her outfit, a short red skirt revealing stockings and a black suspender belt, a pair of black boots and a grey buttoned jacket, giving a bird's eye view of the young woman's breasts.

Damian watched her approach him. He felt a silly smile forming on his face and concentrated to keep his seriousness.

"Well hello handsome boy," said the woman in a very seductive smile. "I'm Brianna. I take care of the men here... Well, the single ones. What are you doing here alone?"

The woman was speaking in a smooth and bewitching voice. Damian took his eyes off the young woman's cleavage and crossed her eyes. Her emerald green eyes plunged into Damian's and he felt as if the temperature in the room had just risen suddenly. He realized that the woman was literally devouring him with her eyes. Beyond the charming look she was giving him, the young woman was looking at Damian with appetite. Damian saw her bite her lip and reveal a sharp canine tooth. He thought back to the wounds of the West couple and the marks on the bones in the cave and his blood froze.

"Brianna!"

A soft but authoritative voice echoed through the station. The young woman raised her head and Damian imitated her a few seconds later. A man was leaning against the railing of the station mezzanine. He looked at Damian and the young woman, his eyes glowing because of the reflection of the lanterns next to him.

"Please leave our guest alone. I wish to speak with him."

Damian turned his head towards the young woman. All innuendos had disappeared from her eyes and she was content to smile friendly. Damian walked away to the escalator.

"Perhaps we'll see you later, honey."

He looked over his shoulder and saw that the woman was looking at him with a slight smile. Damian cleared his throat to regain confidence and climbed up the broken escalator and arrived at the mezzanine. The space at the back was converted into a dormitory and bunk beds were separated by empty wooden shelves, wooden plates or torn curtains.

The man who had called Damian was taller than him. He wore a long leather coat and a beige trellis with boots. Closely shaved, in his forties, eyes of a metallic blue and hair of a color that was a mixture of black and purple, Damian could feel that he was dealing with a very charismatic and intelligent man.

"Welcome to Meresti," he said with a smile. "My people call me Vance."

"My name is Damian."

"Well, Damian, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit here?"

Damian grabbed Lucy's letter.

"I'm looking for Ian West, I have a letter from his sister."

Vance's eyes wrinkled slightly.

"So, he still has a piece of his human family left," Vance whistled. "All the more reason for him to stay in isolation."

"Human?" Damian asked. "What's different about him from us?"

"Different from you," said Vance as if he had just corrected a child who made a grammar mistake.

"Wait, what difference? What do you mean?"

Vance took a deep breath. He leaned on the edge of the mezzanine and looked down at the few people below.

"You're facing, the scum of society, the oppressed, the abandoned by all. Cannibals, human flesh eaters, monsters, demons, so many degrading nicknames that I and my flock have to endure."

This last sentence gave Damian a cold sweat. He remembered his encounter with the cannibals of Andale. But Vance and his _"flock"_ had a completely different attitude. Certainly, this Brianna had been behaving strangely, but it could be blamed on a very strange seduction game. As he spoke, Vance seemed more and more sad, as if his speech brought back bad memories.

"What are you, really?" Damian asked. "Assuming you don't intend to put me on a spit, what are you?"

"Your reaction is... Interesting," smiled Vance.

He pointed to the metro station at his feet.

"I'll never deny the fact that we've all tasted human flesh, but in all objectivity, I don't consider us cannibals because we simply drink the blood of our prey."

"So what, you're vampires?" Damian asked, feeling a tingling in his throat.

Damian could hardly believe it. Vampires were mythological creatures, folklore brought by Europeans long before the Great War, just good at making up stories or horror movies. Yet all the evidence was there. The bites, the dried corpses of Lucy's parents and Vance's speech. Damian looked around him, wondered if all this was not a gigantic joke and if he wasn't going to see Lucy jumping out from her hiding place, disguised as Dracula like on Halloween. Vance looked at Damian and smiled.

"You're a very cultured person, for our time. Usually, people don't see beyond the tip of their nose."

He let a silence settle in before resuming.

"Ian is like us. He's at a difficult time in his life and he has to make a choice that will change him forever. After what happened at Arefu, he's a little lost."

"So that was him," said Damian more to himself. "He's the one who killed his parents, isn't he?"

"That's right, and thanks to me, he hasn't yet completely succumbed to his thirst for flesh."

"And you want to make him one of you, a vampire?"

"Ian will become a member of the Family. And I'll teach him the Way, I'll teach him how to control the hunger that lies within us."

As incredible as this story was, Damian had to face the facts. The story of becoming a bloodsucker rather than a flesh-eater was nothing strange, considering the world he lived in, and the choice between giving some of his blood or having a leg cut off so that it would end up in a stomach, his choice was quickly made.

Damian let Vance speak for a few more seconds, briefly explaining his _"Teaching"_. He sighed before answering.

"Look, Vance, if you really want to help Ian, don't you think he should choose for himself? He still has a family on the surface and they're worried. Personally, I don't care if he joins you or if he goes to live with his sister, but he has a right to know that she cares and to have a memory of his old life. You were talking about objectivity earlier, so give Ian a chance to have a different opinion about his situation than you do so he can decide for himself."

Vance remained pensive for a few seconds. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small piece of crumpled paper and gave it to Damian.

"You're probably right. If you'd like to speak to Ian, here's the password to the area where he's meditating. It's down the hall to your left."

In a rather theatrical gesture, he pointed Damian down one of the corridors. The young man thanked him with a nod and walked towards the room where Ian was locked up.

Damian glanced briefly behind him. Vance had shown no animosity toward him, nor had the few people he had met. The vampire myth presented them as upper-class, sophisticated, high-society people. None of the people at Meresti station were nobles, but they were much friendlier, despite their tough guy looks, than most people in the Wastes.

The corridor leading to the surface was partly collapsed and the access to the surface was blocked by a landslide. Damian found Ian in part of the corridor leading to the toilet, behind a door locked by a security terminal. Sitting at a small table in front of a plastic bag with a dark red liquid and a steaming coffee pot, Damian saw a young man with dirty and torn clothes.

On hearing Damian enter, he straightened up and stood up.

"Who are you?" he cried out in fear. "What do you want from me?"

"You're a hard man to find, you know that?"

"Maybe it's because I don't want to be found," Ian spat.

Damian grabbed the letter in his armor and gave it to the young man.

"No! Don't come any closer!" the young man cried out. "I'm a monster, a fucking monster!"

"Ian, I know about your parents and I'm sorry for what happened. But your sister's still up there and she's worried about you."

"Lucy? Is she... Is she all right?"

"See for yourself."

Damian handed the letter to Ian who unsealed the envelope and started reading it. At the end, he wiped away the tears that were coming up in his eyes.

"She told me that she misses me very much, just like she misses home."

He sighed deeply and gently folded the letter back.

"Can you... Can you do something for me?"

"Of course," Damian answered.

"Tell Vance I'm sorry, but I've decided to go home to Arefu."

Ian began to gather what little stuff was lying around the room. Damian returned to the metro station and approached Vance. The head of the Family looked over Damian's shoulder and saw Ian waiting in the shadows at the entrance to the station.

"I see that your discussion with Ian led to a decision on his part."

"Yes, he decided to go home to Arefu and he thanks you for the help you tried to give him."

"I am sad to see him go, but Arefu is not far away," said Vance as he waved goodbye to Ian.

"Speaking of Arefu, I think you need to have a little chat about it."

"I understand your concern for these humans," said Vance in a sorry tone. "But you must also understand that, while it saddens me, I must find a way to feed my own."

Damian thought for a moment before he smiled. Vance raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"I think I have the solution that will solve everyone's problem," Damian said without stopping smiling.

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**Hope you all enjoyed. I just realized that in a previous chapter, Damian says "War never changes" the famous Fallout line we all know. Well what I realized is that the French translation has not really the same meaning. We translated it by "La Guerre ne meurt jamais", which means "War never dies". Got to admit that when you think about the fact that Mankid almost killed itself in nuclear holocaust in the Fallout universe and that the survivors are still at war with each others, saying that "War never dies", is a great line. A morbid one but a great one. Anyway, until next time.**


	26. Chapter 26: And Justice for All

**Hello everyone hope you are all doing well. Been feeling a little sick lately (that's not the coronavirus, at least I hope it's not), and it slowed my rate of translating/correcting chapters. I apologize in advance in case I failed at publishing at least 1 chapter a day. Anyway, hope you'll enjoy this one.**

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"You got it all figured out?"

Damian, Vance and Ian were walking through the Wastes towards Arefu. They'd left at dusk, Vance insisting not to come out until after sunset. In the meantime, Damian had had to face the onslaught of Brianna, who seemed to take a malicious pleasure in flirting with him.

They had surfaced from a train depot and were approaching Arefu.

"Yes, don't worry," replied Vance. "If Arefu keeps his promise, then the Family will fulfill its part of the deal."

Damian had managed to convince Vance to accompany him to Arefu. Finding Ian West was one thing, but it didn't solve the problem of the Family's attacks on the city. Damian had found a solution that, if it worked, could solve the problems of the Family AND Arefu. The Family needed blood to feed themselves and by asking Vance, Damian had discovered that he had been able to survive by drinking blood found in the supplies of an abandoned hospital. Animal blood could also do the trick, but for some reason Damian didn't know, it ended up making them sick in too large quantities.

Damian's plan was a simple one. If Arefu could provide bags of blood, then the Family would commit to stop harassing them and place the town under their protection. Damian wasn't sure how Evan King would react, so he asked Vance to stay away from the ramp and stay back, in case King thought of giving him the same explosive reception that Damian had been given.

They were only a few meters from the bridge when Damian pushed Vance and Ian behind a rock.

"What's going on?" Ian asked irritated.

Damian motioned for him to shut up and pointed to the entrance to the town of Arefu. Near the hut where the Brahmins were, a group of Enclave soldiers were inspecting the place. Damian had almost not seen them except for the armor of one of them, which had small fluorescent blue LEDs on the shoulders.

"Is this the Enclave?" Ian asked in a whisper. "On the radio they say they occupy a place right next to the ruins of D.C."

"I guess they came here looking for something. Or someone," said Vance.

He looked at Damian but said nothing else. Damian looked at the soldiers. His hand itched to take his assault rifle and kill them all, but a quick glance at the heavy armament of some of them made him give up. They didn't seem to want to move when the one with the blue diode armor waved his hand and they began to move away to the West. Damian waited a few moments before getting up again.

The path to Arefu was clear. Evan King was no longer at his guard post. He must have been locked up at home.

"Well, I'm going to go check it out, and if it's clear, I'll signal you to come in."

Vance nodded. Ian followed Damian's footsteps and they arrived at the door of King's house. Damian knocked on the door.

"Sheriff King, I've located Ian West..."

Damian heard a noise on the other side of the door. A small hatch in the door opened and Damian was hit in the face with the white beam of a flashlight. He blinked his eyes and grimaced. The light then branched off towards Ian.

"You've found him! Oh, what a relief!" King cried out. "And the Family, have you solved the problem?"

"Yes. About that," Damian said. "I was able to meet them and have a chat with them."

"And?"

"They're ready to make a deal."

"They want to negotiate?"

King seemed surprised, but Damian noticed a hint of interest in his voice.

"Yes, they're willing to protect the city if in exchange you provide them with blood."

"Blood? Why the hell would they do that?"

"Let's just say that they need it on a fairly regular basis," Damian replied. "Their leader is here, at the entrance of the city if you want to check."

The door opened and King stuck his head outside. He saw Vance waving at him.

"Ian," said the Sheriff, turning to the boy. "What about your parents?"

"It's my fault, Sheriff King," said Ian.

He explained, purposely omitting certain details. Damian had also assumed that King would not accept such a thing, but he refrained from intervening. If the old Sheriff knew where his interest in the story lay, he would take the deal.

"Well, tell this Vance guy I accept."

"I'll tell him, thank you Sheriff," Damian replied.

"Oh, while I you're here…"

Evan King had just lowered his voice.

"There's a bunch of guys in black armor who have taken up residence on the other side of the bridge. They say they're part of the Enclave."

"What?"

Damian turned his head to the end of the bridge, but the West's cabin wouldn't let him see.

"Yes, they say they're looking for a man with a Pip-Boy, like yours."

Damian remained silent as he watched Evan King who gave him a big smile.

"But I told them we've never seen a guy like that here before. The Pip-Boy are only worn by people of pre-war Vaults and I don't know what one of them would do here in the Wastes."

"Thank you, Sheriff," Damian whispered, struggling to hide his relief.

He would have hated having to fight a large contingent of the Enclave in the middle of that bridge.

"It's our turn to thank you," King corrected. "Well, go tell this Vance that it's okay and if you need to rest, you're always welcome to Arefu."

Damian returned to Vance, while King locked himself in his house and Ian returned to his parents' cabin.

"It's okay, Vance. Arefu agreed."

"Then we'll honor our part of the deal," the man replied.

Damian spent the night in the hut next to the Brahmin pen. The next morning, he set off again and returned to Megaton. On the way, he passed near Big Town. The town was still standing, which reassured Damian a little. His journey to Megaton was quiet. He walked through the big gates and asked an inhabitant if he knew where Lucy was. The man told him that he had seen her heading to Moira's house.

Damian climbed up the various footbridges. He bumped into Lucy as she was about to enter and called out to her. When she saw him, a smile appeared on her face and Damian was sure she was blushing.

"Hi," said the young woman. "Have you been to Arefu? Please tell me you have news for me."

"Yes, I've been to Arefu and I brought your letter."

"You did? Oh, thank you, thank you so much. So how are my parents? And Ian? Why did they not answer my previous letters?"

Damian looked serious and invited Lucy to step aside from a small group that was coming their way. He told her the whole story in detail. The young woman listened to him, sadness in her eyes. She did not shed a single tear, but deep down she must have wanted to burst into tears.

"Well, thank you for doing this for me."

Damian gave her a comforting smile.

"I… I'm sorry for your parents… I truly am."

Lucy did not answer and nodded slowly, trying her best not to cry.

"I was going to shop a few things at Moira's. Do… Do you want to come?"

"Sure," smiled Damian.

They walked towards the entrance of Moira's store. Damian opened the door. He let Lucy through and went in. He had decided that helping Moira in her search would pass the time until the Brotherhood decided to act or repair their Vault-Tec computer.

Damian saw Lucy leaping to the side and less than a second later, he had a splash of ice-cold water on his face. Lucy put her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide open in surprise. Damian saw Moira holding a bucket from which a small trickle of water was running out. Damian could have said nothing and just laughed, but he heard his Pip-Boy's Geiger counter go wild. He looked to see that the pointer was swinging towards the dangerous zone.

"Are you fucking crazy?" Damian yelled.

In response, Moira dropped the bucket on the counter and approached him with a notepad and pencil. Damian was starting to get dizzy. His arms were trembling, and he felt nausea coming over him.

"So, if you'd describe to me how you feel," Moira said, looking at him very seriously.

"I'll tell you, I'm dizzy, nauseous, and I feel like I'm going to break everything here! Starting with you!"

"Interesting," Moira mumbled as she took notes.

Damian couldn't believe it. He glanced at Lucy, who wasn't sure whether to laugh or bring him a towel.

"Would you say you'd be able to travel a long distance, say, from here to Rivet City?"

Damian's headache was getting worse and worse, as was the nausea. The Geiger counter on his Pip-Boy was calibrated to display the level of radiation in his body and from what he could see, it was pretty high. He didn't know what Moira had put in that bucket, but he had no desire to find out.

"No! Now give me some meds or RadAway before I turn into a ghoul or I blow a hole in the floor!

Moira seemed to come back to reality. She hurriedly put down her notebook and grabbed Damian by the arm and led him to a small table. She made him sit down and remove his armor before she examined him and injected him with a dark yellow IV liquid. Damian began to feel better as soon as the product started flowing through his veins.

A few minutes later, Moira withdrew the infusion. She examined him again for a few more minutes.

"There, you see, it wasn't so hard."

Damian could have strangled her at that very moment. He heard Lucy trying to suppress her laughter. The radiation he had received was not much higher than he could ingest by eating or drinking, but he had received it so suddenly and in such rapid quantities that he could see himself turning into a ghoul or shining like a light bulb.

"I have enough notes to close this part of the book. However, there is a slight complication. While was examining you, I discovered that you've developed some kind of, uh, tiny little mutation."

Damian became pale. He hastily lifted his shirt. He remembered his examination of the G.O.A.T. and the slide showing a Vault resident surrounded by barrels of radioactive waste with a third hand on his stomach. He let out a long sigh of relief when he saw that everything was in order.

"I... I guess now you're going to be a little more resistant to radiation than we are."

"I suppose that's a small consolation, considering you tried to burn me with a bucket of irradiated water," Damian said, getting dressed.

"Come on, don't be so negative," Moira said, slapping his arm amicably. "Here, take this instead."

She walked to the counter and rummaged for a few moments in a small wooden box before coming back. She put down five plastic bags of the yellow liquid she had injected into Damian and a box of pills.

"Here, I'll give you some Radaway and Rad-X. It'll certainly come in handy on your travels, and it's also my way of apologizing for wringing out your DNA like an old rag."

Damian mumbled a thank-you and put the medicine in one of the pouches of his belt. He sighed and got up from the table.

"Had you come to me to buy ammunition or did you want to continue to help me with my research?"

"I guess the sooner this book is finished, the sooner you'll stop trying to kill me," said Damian, who knew full well that he would regret helping the young woman.

"Still a killjoy, huh?" Moira smiles. "So, for the last section of this chapter, you'd have to go to a town northeast of here. A place called Minefield."

The name didn't bode well, and when Moira explained why, a strange feeling went through Damian's legs and lower body. For this new portion of the Guide, Moira wanted him to go to this town, defuse a landmine and bring it back to her. Damian sighed and agreed, convinced that one day his selflessness would cause his doom. The main reason he continued to work for Moira was that, besides the information he could glean, this book, if done well, would be a real source of information for the inhabitants of the Wasteland and especially for Amata, should she ever manage to leave the Vault.

Damian left Moira's store, massaging his temples, already wondering how he would disarm a mine. He heard Lucy behind him and turned around.

"You have a lot of credit for helping Moira, you know. Most of the people she asks for help just run away. Which makes me wonder, why do you care so much about helping people?"

Damian shrugged.

"When I was growing up in the Vault, my father did everything he could to teach me that there was nothing more rewarding than helping the people around you, and it's true that I have a hard time refusing to help, even if it means putting my life on the line. In fact, I don't really know if it's because of what my father tried to teach me and the fact that he and my mother tried to help people all their life, or if I have a Messiah complex and I convince myself that I'm the only one who can fix everything on Earth."

He glanced briefly at Lucy and noticed that she had not understood everything.

"Let us just say that the best way I could find to make my father proud of me was to follow in his footsteps and do good myself."

"That's very noble of you," smiled Lucy.

"Yeah, well, if I could avoid having an army of killers in power armor on my tail or being Moira's guinea pig, I wouldn't be against it either."

Lucy laughed. Damian looked at the time on his Pip-Boy and the location Moira had given him on his map. He made a quick calculation in his head. If he left right away, he would have time to explore the area and come back before early afternoon.

"I have to go," he said. "If I take too long on bringing that mine back, I'm afraid Moira will intentionally place one next time I'm in the area."

"Oh, all right," said Lucy. "Take care of yourself then, and... Come and see me sometime, Damian."

"Goodbye, Lucy."

Damian walked away. Lucy West watched him walk to his cabin. She sighed before she left.

Damian came out of his house a few minutes later. He had stopped to get some food for the road and had also asked Wadsworth to fill his canteen with water.

The road to Minefield passed through the ruins of a fairly large town. There were old offices and apartments buildings, most of which had only the steel reinforcement and a few concrete walls left. Damian was walking along a building, looking for possible ambush spots.

There was a peculiar smell in the air. The kind of smell that accompanies the use of energy weapons. As Damian walked along, the smell became stronger and he began to see empty shell casings and energy cells on the ground, and then dead bodies. Most of the bodies were charred skeletons and the few remaining identifiable corpses were an amalgam of men and women wearing leather and metal outfits. Their skin was covered with dirt and their eyes were bloodshot. Damian remembered the different groups of Raiders he had encountered in the Wastes.

Damian continued walking down the street. As far as he knew, only the soldiers of the Brotherhood of Steel and the Enclave used energy weapons because of their rarity and the fact that they were very difficult to maintain. At an intersection, Damian saw a group of four people, two men and two women. They wore long brown leather coats reaching to their knees and fatigues and boots making them look like cowboys, like Lucas Simms.

One of the women, wearing a large gray leather hat, noticed Damian and waved to her companions. Damian was standing on the corner of a building. The mysterious group watched him, their weapons lowered. Damian put his hand away from his assault rifle. He was close enough to the wall to take cover, but he wasn't going to provoke those people unnecessarily as they showed no sign of aggression.

The four strangers looked at each other and the woman with the hat raised her hand to Damian as a greeting. Damian returned the gesture. The four strangers tipped their weapons on their shoulders and approached. Damian did the same and walked towards them, keeping an eye around him.

The four people were of different ages. The two women must have been between 30 and 35 years of age, while one of the two men was a little older than Damian and the second, with a large moustache, was in his late fifties. They were all equipped with laser rifles, except for the woman with the hat, who wore a 12-gauge shotgun with a circular magazine.

"Hello stranger," said the woman, tilting her hat. "My name is Sonora Cruz, leader of the Capital's Wasteland Regulators."

"Hello, my name is Damian Franklin."

The young man glanced at the dead bodies lying in the street.

"Don't be afraid," Sonora said with a smirk on her face. "If you're not on our list, then you don't have to be afraid of us."

"Your list?"

"We Regulators, we spread Justice through the Wastelands," explained the woman. "Gang leaders, murderers, those who profit and abuse others, all must be brought to Justice."

"So, the four of you are walking the Wastelands and killing Raiders and criminals? Good luck," said Damian with a touch of sarcasm.

"We are not alone in this," Sonora replied. "All over the Capital Wasteland, other Regulators are working to make these lands safer."

"And how do I know I'm not on your list?"

"The fact that you're still alive," Sonora answered in a sly smile. "So just stay out of trouble and you'll be fine."

Sonora waved to her men and they walked away, greeting Damian. Before leaving, the Regulator with the moustache pulled a knife with a serrated blade from his belt and cut the index finger of one of the corpses with a sharp blow. He then put it away in a small box which he placed inside his coat.

Playing vigilante was a noble enough cause, but with the ever-increasing number of Raiders in the Wasteland, the place would not be pacified before years. Moreover, the Regulators' vision was very limited. If the Regulators were concerned with eliminating the Raiders gangs and slavers, then yes, the Capital Wasteland would one day be a slightly safer place. On the other hand, if the Regulators considered that all those who committed criminal acts, such as theft, deserved to end up like those Raiders, then they were no better than them.

"'_...And Justice for all'_," said Damian, recalling the lyrics of a song.

Damian didn't have time to continue philosophizing about it. Maybe one day he would find out about these Regulators and if their targets were only Raiders, slavers, assassins and maybe the Enclave then he would probably give them a hand.

Damian was about to leave when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around and saw a man in green combat armor with a matching helmet waving at him.

"Donovan?" Damian said, recognizing the mercenary. "But... what are you doing here?"

"I am on a mission, on behalf of Reilly," replied the mercenary after catching his breath.

"How did you find me?" Damian asked.

"It's simple, the map module Reilly gave you emits a signal, and I just had to follow it, but I'm glad I didn't have to go through this whole damn desert to find you. Reilly likes to keep an eye on the newbies and make sure they're okay."

He rummaged through a small pouch and pulled out a black steel tube.

"What's that?" Damian asked, taking the items and inspecting them.

"It's a silencer for your 10mm pistol. Sometimes a little discretion can't hurt."

"Thanks Donovan."

Damian drew his gun and fixed the silencer on. He weighed his gun and felt it a little heavier, like in the Anchorage simulation. Donovan looked around while Damian removed the silencer and put it in a pouch on his belt.

"What are you doing in the middle of Bethesda ruins?" asked the mercenary. "You're improving your karma by taking out those Raiders?"

"That's the Regulators' job, I ran into them on my way here."

"Ah, the vigilantes? Good guys," said Donovan. "Didn't really understand the appeal of the Western style, though. And you? You're maintaining your image?"

"What do you mean?"

Donovan frowned, obviously surprised Damian didn't know what he was talking about.

"You don't know? The radio's been going on and on about you. Three Dog even gave you a nickname, _'The Lone Wanderer'_. You're a real hero now."

Damian knew that Three Dog had already talked about him when he disarmed Megaton's bomb and saved the Rangers, but not that he had made him into some kind of heroic figure.

"Fame isn't really my thing," Damian said with a sigh.

"I understand you but with everything that's going on, having a guy like you gives, well, it gives people hope. I mean, not many people would go into downtown D.C. and rescue a bunch of beleaguered mercenaries or try to disarm a nuclear bomb."

"Speaking of disarming things," said Damian, who wanted to change the subject. Any idea how to disarm a landmine?"

"Why, you're planning a trip to Minefield?

"Well, yes."

"I knew you were crazy, but that… That beats everything," said Donovan.

"To put it simply," explained Damian. "Megaton's main shopkeeper decided to write a book called _'The Wasteland survival Guide'_, and she asked me to help her with the research."

Damian briefly explained Moira's request to Donovan. The mercenary thought the idea of the book was crazier than anything else.

"Well, there hasn't been any new best seller sold for two centuries, so… But who the hell has time to write a book these days?"

Damian shrugged. Donovan looked at him for a few seconds before he started walking North.

"What are you doing? Damian asked.

"No offense, but if Reilly ever found out I let you go up there alone to rig explosives for a crazy woman to write a book, she'd kick my ass."

Minefield was built on the side of a hill on which stood the rusty remains of a water tower. Only a few houses were still intact, the rest of the town being just another pile of concrete or wood ruins, as the Capital Wasteland counted hundreds.

Crouching on a small rocky mound giving them a bird's eye view of the area, Damian and Donovan watched the town from a distance. On the way, the mercenary had told them what he knew about the city, like basically any person of the Wastes. Once a small town called Ridgefield, the town had been completely devastated by a group of slavers and had gained a reputation as a haunted town. Damian almost laughed when he heard this, but he could sense that Donovan believed the story to be true. The mercenary seemed a little nervous and had been staring at the town with binoculars stuck in front of his eyes for five minutes.

"What makes people say this town is haunted?" Damian asked.

"The people who tried to scavenge the place and didn't end up like a jigsaw by stepping on a mine, all said they heard voices asking them to leave. A deep voice from beyond the grave that came from everywhere at once. No one ever saw who was talking, so I tell you, this town is haunted."

"And yet you're here with me," Damian said, looking at the mercenary with a smirk on his face.

"Fuck you man, I just don't want you to end up in multiple pieces and quite honestly, I'm more afraid of Reilly than of the ghosts living in those ruins."

Damian smiled while Donovan turned his attention to the ruined houses.

"If this place is called Minefield, it's because it must be a minefield, right?" Damian said.

"You figured it out alone?" said Donovan with a smile.

"What I mean, is that someone must have placed these mines in town, and I doubt it was a ghost who did it."

Donovan snapped his tongue in his mouth, thinking about what Damian had just said.

"Yeah," he said, putting away his binoculars. "Your theory makes sense, but I still say this town is haunted."

"No offense, Donovan, but I find it really hard to believe you're afraid of that, when I've seen you fight the Super Mutants and they really scare the shit out of you," Damian said.

"Yeah, but a Super Mutant, I can see it and it's bleeding, so I can kill it. A ghost, no."

Damian shrugged. He had never believed in ghosts, but this devastated world had already brought him many surprises, and part of his brain was beginning to imagine that it was possible that all around him, the ghosts of the millions of dead from the Great War were wandering around this desert without anyone noticing.

They approached the city from the main road. At the far end of the city, Damian could see the ruins of a large concrete building and on the other side of the city on a hill, the chimneys of a factory.

A heavy silence reigned around them and Damian had an unpleasant impression. He was beginning to understand what was making Donovan uncomfortable. The center of the town was occupied by a playground. Damian was constantly looking at his feet. Donovan stopped and crouched. Damian approached him cautiously. The mercenary was standing in front of a small set of dry brush next to a small house and the wreckage of a car. He grabbed a combat knife from a holster on his leg and slowly spread the branches with the blade. Looking over his shoulder, Damian could see a metallic object, beige in color and circular in shape, blending perfectly into the soil and vegetation. Donovan slowly approached the blade of his knife when a voice echoed around them.

"_Go away!"_

Damian and Donovan jumped up and pointed their rifles as they looked around them.

"Oh shit!" said the mercenary. "I told you, this place is haunted!"

Damian looked around looking for someone. He saw nothing and the voice had already vanished into the wind. The voice began to speak again, and Damian tapped the mercenary's shoulder and pointed to something in the window of one of the houses. Donovan raised an eyebrow and looked at Damian and the object he had just seen.

On the windows of the house next to them were loudspeakers, connected to electrical wires, going from house to house.

"_Go away!"_ repeated the mysterious voice through the speakers.

Damian turned his head towards Donovan and smiled at him.

"I think I've found your voice from beyond the grave."

"Yeah, what I'd like to know is to who that voice belongs to," the mercenary said, scanning the area.

Damian heard a whistle and then a click. Shards of asphalt gushed out of the ground. A shot rang out. Damian and Donovan dove behind a car wreck while a second shot rang out.

"Damn it! Did you see where it came from?" Donovan cried out.

Damian was about to respond when a bullet slammed into the body of the car. Damian turned his head towards the hill where the water tower was, but saw nothing at all. A fourth shot was heard, which was immediately masked by an explosion. Dirt fell on Damian and Donovan.

"Damn sniper," Donovan said. "He detonated the mines when he fired on them."

"Any idea where he is?" Damian asked looking around.

"I think he's in that big building at the end of the road."

A voice echoed through the speakers again, but Damian didn't pay attention.

"The road to the building has to be clear, we can go to his position and kill the bastard," said Donovan, crouching even more behind his cover. "The problem is we're going to be right in his line of fire. The other thing is that even though there are no mines on the road, there may be mines on the edges like the one we found."

"So what's the plan?"

Donovan looked around before he turned to Damian.

"We're gonna climb that barricade and we're gonna go around the side of the house. We should come up on his flanks and then we'll light him up."

"All right, we'll do that."

The mercenary crawled up to a barricade of wood and metal, which was set up between two houses. After checking, he climbed over the obstacle and jumped to the other side. Damian imitated him. They walked along the wall of the house as far as the corner. Other handmade barricades had been set up, forming a barrier around the town. They walked along the barricades when another shot was fired. Damian heard a curse and saw Donovan stumble and a sheaf of sparks flying from his hands.

They ran and threw themselves to the ground behind the wall of another house.

"Son of a bitch," Donovan spat between his teeth.

The sniper had anticipated their movements and had hit Donovan through the barricade, probably after seeing him through one of the holes in the fence. The bullet had severed the pinky finger of the mercenary's left hand and his gun flew through the air as it was hit by the bullet. Damian rummaged through his saddlebags for bandages.

"Give me your gun," said the mercenary after bandaging his hand.

"Are you alright?" asked Damian, worried.

"Yeah... I think I know where he is. I'll shoot him from here. That should make him duck his head. In the meantime, you keep walking around and get inside the building. All right, one more thing, watch out for holes in the walls. Once you're in the building, move slowly and avoid anything that looks weird, suspicious, anything that doesn't seem to fit, there will be a trap."

Damian nodded. He drew his pistol and gave it to the mercenary with several magazines.

"Okay, good luck," Donovan said.

He got into position, counted to three and started firing. Damian walked along the wall and fences. He climbed two car wrecks on top of each other. He was facing the sniper's building. He had to walk about ten meters before he reached the building. Damian could see bullet impacts where Donovan was shooting. He ran up and entered the building from the corner that had collapsed.

There was nothing left of the ground floor of the building. Damian noticed a stairwell. He also noticed small piles of debris and pieces of cloth on the steps, as if to hide something. Damian walked slowly, his rifle raised towards the floors, his gaze going from the tip of the barrel of his gun to his feet.

Damian slowly climbed up the first floor. In the corner right in front of the stairs, a mattress was lying on the floor with a small blanket with a hole in it. Boxes of food and .308 caliber ammunition were scattered around the mattress. Damian also noticed a pair of crutches beside it. He turned his head and saw a man crouching behind a window. He was wearing beige cloth clothes. The man was old and had no hair on the top of his head. Damian approached. The shooting stopped. Damian heard a small object rolling at his feet. He had just bumped into an aluminum can. The man turned around with surprising speed and pointed his sniper rifle at Damian. The young man fired a burst. He hit his target on the arm. The sniper staggered and fired his rifle. The bullet missed Damian who took cover behind a concrete pillar. The man cursed and fired again several successive shots. A last shot rang out and Damian heard something fall to the ground. He ventured to look and bent his head out of his hiding place.

The sniper was dead. Lying face down on the ground, a small hole in the back of his skull and his face destroyed. A puddle of blood surrounded his head and Damian could see small pieces of bone and bits of brain on the ground. He heard footsteps on the floor below, then Donovan's voice.

"Damian? Everything okay up there?"

"Yeah, I'm still in one piece. You come up. It's clear."

Donovan climbed the stairs and joined him. He glanced upstairs and approached the sniper's body.

"So this is the ghost of Minefield? An old man with a sniper rifle?"

"Looks like it," said Damian. "If you ask me, he's the one behind all the rumors around here."

Donovan shrugged.

"I don't know and I don't care. This guy tried to blow our brains out and almost succeeded."

He bent over and ripped the sniper rifle out of the corpse's hands. The mercenary went back to Damian and gave him back his pistol and the magazines he hadn't used.

"Well, we came here to find a mine and defuse one, right?" the mercenary asked rhetorically. "Come over here."

He came down from the building. Damian took one last look at the man's corpse, wondering what could have caused an old man to turn this town into a death trap and joined the mercenary downstairs.

Donovan spent about twenty minutes explaining and showing Damian how to disarm a landmine. Damian listened carefully, observing how the mercenary was able to render the explosive inert. The easiest way was to insert a small needle into the pin mechanism, thus blocking the trigger. Donovan advised Damian, however, that the easiest way to disarm a mine was to shoot it from a distance. He also explained to him that some people had modified these mines and had installed proximity sensors. The mine would beep and explode when someone was too close to it.

"One more thing. Never lift or turn the mine over. There's often an internal mechanism so that if you move the device while it's active... Boom."

Damian never imagined that these small objects could pose such a danger in the Wastes and were so complex to disarm, compared to the Megaton nuke which, in comparison, had been a piece of cake. Donovan explained to him that most of the mines that could be found in the desert had been placed just after the Great War by groups of survivors of the US Army, who were convinced that the Chinese would try to invade them. The invasion did not come, and as the years passed, the mines remained in the ground waiting for a poor traveler to step on them and have his leg ripped off. Today these mines were mostly recovered by groups of Raiders or slavers to protect their camps or to ambush caravans, the others were still buried in the ground, mainly near roads or in fields, but Donovan reassured Damian a little by telling him that they should be harmless after two centuries without maintenance.

"Don't go jump on them with your feet, either," said the mercenary. "I've already seen a Raider stoned to death on Jet trying to do that and, well, you get the idea."

Damian easily imagined the body being pulverized by the explosion. Knowing that he was unlikely to inadvertently step on a mine laid in the middle of nowhere by a soldier who had been dead for 200 years reassured him.

"Thank you so much for your help Donovan."

"Rangers take care of each other," said the mercenary with a smile. "And in the future, tell your friend who wants to write her book to come and get her mines herself."

Damian smiled. They headed South again when Damian heard his Pip-Boy beep. He raised his little computer and looked at the screen.

"What's going on?" Donovan asked.

"Looks like I just picked up a radio signal," Damian said as he scrolled down the list of frequencies his Pip-Boy could display.

He activated the new frequency and a very strange sound came out of his Pip-Boy's speakers. Intermittently, small noises were coming out of the interference. The sounds sounded like someone talking but neither Damian nor Donovan understood what the message was saying.

"Must be a scavenger who activated one of those old antennas in the Desolate Lands and started broadcasting a pre-war signal," the mercenary said.

Damian stuck his ear to his computer and tried to distinguish a word or a sentence, but he couldn't make out a word or a sentence at all.

"Are you coming?" Donovan asked, tilting the sniper rifle over his shoulder.

"No," Damian answered. "I'm going to check that signal, you should go home and get your hand fixed."

"I think it's a waste of time, but okay. I'll tell Reilly that you're fine. Take care of yourself out there."

The two men shook hands. Donovan walked away towards the ruins of D.C.

Damian took a few steps in each direction, holding his Pip-Boy by his ear. The signal didn't seem to weaken in either direction, but he noticed that the parasites disappeared slightly as he walked North.

"Well, let's go and see what's so mysterious about this radio broadcast," he said as he began to walk.

* * *

**Hope you all enjoyed. I know the _"And Justice for All"_ is in the Pledge of Allegiance to the United States, but I took the literral meaning of Justice (and the one in the Metallica song) for this chapter. Hope I'm not butchering or disrespecting anything related to the US by writing that, and if so, my sincere apology. Until next time.**


	27. Chapter 27: We come in Peace

**Hello everyone, hope you are all doing well. What is the mysterious radio broadcast Damian has picked up, and what will he discover? Let's find out.**

* * *

Damian climbed the hill on which the factory overlooked Minefield. The imposing brick structure was surrounded by a rust-ridden wire fence. Damian approached one of the signs hanging from the fence.

_"MDPL-13 Power Plant_

_Property of the State of Maryland, Commonwealth of Colombia_

_Forbidden Entry "_

Damian looked up to the sky. The plant was small in comparison to other buildings or monuments in the Capital Wasteland, but because of its elevated position and the three chimneys that rose to the sky, the plant was one of the main landmarks of the region, and had to offer an overview of the entire Wasteland.

The road from the plant meandered between hills and dead trees and was littered with destroyed vehicles. On his right, Damian could see a landscape where small farms were scattered and the ruins of a small town.

The radio message continued to run in a loop. As Damian listened to it, he could see that it was the same sentence, repeated over and over again in a dialect he did not understand. He first thought of Chinese, remembering his lessons in U.S. History in the Vault, where he had learned about Chinese small groups disrupting key parts of the country. Thinking back to the few times he had heard about the Chinese in the Anchorage simulation, he concluded that the message he had just picked up could very well be an old pre-war message from a Chinese terrorist group, but he had to check where the signal was coming from before he could be sure.

The frequency appeared to be coming from the top of a hill. Damian turned off the road and began to climb the small slope. When he reached the top, his Pip-Boy sizzled quietly, and he saw the pointer of his Geiger counter move very little. Damian kept going and arrived on the other side of the hill. He lowered his rifle and stood still, stunned by what he saw.

A gray device was stuck in the ground against the rock face of the hill. About the size of the Enclave's flying machines, it was big oval object. The front was slightly recessed and consisted of a large semi-circular glass. The glass was broken and inside, Damian could see a chair and several small consoles, probably computers.

He had never seen anything like this before. He just stood there, admiring this strange device.

"Damn..." Damian whispered. "It looks like... An alien ship..."

Damian descended the slope that separated him from the aircraft. His hypothesis was confirmed when he saw a body in a small hollow just below the cockpit of the UFO. About a head and a half less than him, the body was encased in a grey suit, wearing orange boots and had its head covered by a helmet which was cracked and stained from the inside with a green liquid.

Damian stood there, fascinated by his discovery. He cautiously approached the corpse and noticed his hands. As hands, the corpse had three long tapered fingers, ending in what looked like a suction cup. Damian knelt beside the body and a smile appeared on his face. He had before him proof of life outside the Earth, proof that beyond the sky there was an extraterrestrial race and that the universe was inhabited.

A little buzzing sounded in Damian's ears. He looked at his Pip-Boy and saw that the radio message had stopped and that instead, only static was occupying the frequency. Damian saw a slight movement in his peripheral vision. He turned his head and saw a small pebble, slowly rising from the ground. Damian saw others, moving and rising towards the sky all around him.

He suddenly felt very light. He lowered his head and saw that he, too, was beginning to lift off the ground. He looked around him and noticed the halo of blue light that was beginning to envelop him. Damian didn't understand what was happening to him until it was too late. He lost control of his body. He tried to wave his arms to make up for something, but all he could do was float gently several inches off the ground. He was rising higher and higher in the air. He turned around and could see the Capital Wasteland stretching beneath his feet. The halo of light completely enveloped him, and his vision became increasingly blurred just before he lost consciousness.

Damian slowly opened his eyes. There was a large white lamp above him, and he heard strange noises all around him. Whistling and clicking noises. Three figures appeared above him. The light blinded him too much to distinguish the three individuals properly. All he could see was the shape of their head, oval, the skull stretching backwards. They had a fairly long neck and large arms ending in hands with three thin tentacles.

Damian tried to move, but all strength in his body had disappeared. The figures continued talking for a few moments, until four metal tentacles appeared next to them. Each tentacle ended with a strange instrument, a metal cone or a large needle. One of the tentacles slowly approached Damian. It passed close to his face and descended towards his belly. The next second, Damian felt an unbearable pain in his stomach.

He opened his mouth and screamed, tears rising to his eyes. The three silhouettes looked at each other and one of them grabbed a small transparent rectangular object and imitated what looked like someone typing on a keyboard. The pain continued. It overran Damian. He lost consciousness.

Damian woke up with a start. He casted frantic glances around him. He was in an oval room with no ceiling. The walls and floor were made of metal and a strange grey-blue veil was used as a door. Damian heard a voice beside him. An African American woman, with a shaved head, wearing a leather outfit, was leaning next to him.

"Well old chap, it's about time," she said. "I was beginning to think your brain was fried."

Damian tried to talk. He felt a sharp pain in his head, as if someone was pounding his brain with a hammer.

"Headache?" asked the woman with a small smile. "Don't worry, it will pass in a few minutes."

Damian blinked several times and continued to cast dazed and panicky glances around him. He was cold and as he lowered his head, he noticed that he wasn't wearing his armor anymore and that he only had a T-shirt, his shorts and his Pip-Boy.

"You made an impression on them. At least they left me my pants."

"What... What… What is that... Are those aliens?"

The woman let out a chuckle. She helped Damian get on his feet.

"It's crazy, right? You think you've seen it all and bang, something even more crazy happens."

Damian put his hands on his belly. He remembered the crashed ship and the blue light taking it off into the sky, then the pain that had passed through it. He felt a small scar near his belly button and observed the rest of his body.

He moved closer to what served as a door to the room. He could see through it, but his vision was blurred, as if that mysterious veil was distorting what was on the other side. Damian approached his hand. He felt a slight electric current through his fingers.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the woman said. "This stuff will give you a good jolt that will knock you out for a long time."

Damian removed his hand and returned to the center of the cell. He rubbed his arms to try to keep warm.

"What do you think they want from us?" he asked.

"No idea," the woman replied immediately. I don't understand a fuckin word of what they're saying and I've forgotten half the things they've done to me, and it's probably better that way."

Damian heard crying and wailing a little further on, probably in another cell.

"We're not alone here," said the woman. "Sometimes they bring people, sometimes they pick them up and bring them back a few hours later... Or not. And I don't want to know what they do to them, either way."

"Have you been here with me for a long time?" Damian asked.

"Hey kid, this is MY little piece of heaven here," said the woman grinning. "It's you who's here with me, not the other way around. And to answer you, they dropped you off about an hour ago. Me, I lost track of time."

The woman sighed and crossed her arms.

"Well, since you're stuck with me, we might as well get to know each other," said Damian.

"My name is Somah, if you must know," the woman answered.

"Damian."

"I just saw your Pip-Boy. How did they get you? Did they come down to your Vault for you on purpose?"

"No, I ran into one of their crashed ships in the Wastes and the next thing I know I was here."

Damian looked again at the electric field blocking the exit from their cell.

"You wouldn't have any idea how to get out of there, I suppose."

A slight smirk appeared on Somah's face.

"I've been thinking about it for a little while, but..."

She left her sentence hanging and looked up.

"What?" Damian asked, raising his head in turn.

He heard a slight metallic squeaking sound. Somah looked at Damian, a look of panic on her face.

"Against the wall! Quickly!" she cried.

Somah leaned against the wall of the cell behind her and Damian imitated her. The woman's eyes were looking at where the ceiling of the cell was supposed to be. Up there, Damian saw a large rail that seemed to cross where they were. The squeaking intensified and Damian saw a giant metal clamp pass over them. The huge grapple went past their cell and he heard Somah breathe a sigh of relief.

The grapple stopped. Damian heard it drop and a few seconds later, a scream sounded. The grappling hook went over their cell, taking with it a man hanging by his leg who was struggling and crying for help.

"What the fuck is that thing?" Damian asked.

"What, you've never seen _'The Claw'_?" Somah said sarcastically.

The man's cries stopped abruptly.

"Listen," said Somah. "I don't know where they've taken this guy or what they're going to do to him, but better him than us. We've got to get out of here or we'll end up the same way."

"If you have an idea, I'm all hear," said Damian, keeping his eyes fixed on the rail.

"They're watching us, you know. You see that red thing moving on the wall?"

Damian looked down. On the wall of the cell, clinging to a small rail, a sphere with a red lens was slowly sliding and seemed to follow the movements of the two captives.

"Call me crazy, but that thing looks like an eye and I bet that because of it, they are watching us. Then we might as well give them a show."

"I'm listening," said Damian who was beginning to understand what Somah had in mind.

"If we're still alive, it's because they want us to be, so if I ever try to kill you by hitting you, they'll show up and stop it."

"So, you want us to fight, and once they're here, we take action?"

"That's the plan, yes," said Somah.

Damian thought for a few seconds.

"What if you're wrong? What if we're together just so they can watch the fight?"

"I'll make sure to hold my punches. I need you as much as you need me."

"So, let's say this works. Once we're out there, what do we do?"

Somah shrugged.

"I don't know, but it's better than waiting and doing nothing."

Damian took a deep breath. He discreetly looked at the camera in their cell and then at the electric field.

"What you're afraid of hitting a woman?" asked Somah. "Cut that gallantry bullshit will ya? We have to get out of here, fast."

"All right, let's go," Damian said a bit upset.

Damian had barely finished his sentence when he was punched in the jaw. He stumbled and took a few steps back.

_""Hold my blows.'. Yeah sure,"_ he thought, massaging his open lip.

"Come on you pussy! Show me what you got!"

Damian grimaced. It had to look like their fight was real, but Somah was probably overdoing it. Damian wiped the blood off his lip and threw himself into the fray. He threw his fist into Somah's cheek and held it back at the last moment, just touching her face. Somah stepped back and pretended to be stunned before counterattacking.

After a few seconds, Damian was cornered against the wall of the cell facing the electric field. On the other side, he could see two small figures watching them. Somah continued to strike, purposely missing some of her punches.

Damian saw the electric field disappear and the two aliens entered the cell. They were equipped with small grey sticks, ending with a small blue diode surrounded by a grid.

"Now!" Damian shouted.

Somah turned around and threw her fist in the alien's face. Damian dodged the second alien's bludgeon and disarmed him with great ease. He wasn't a very muscular or strong man, but these creatures had even less strength than he did.

The diode at the end of the stick was actually an electric field. Damian struck the alien with a horizontal movement, which squealed and bent forward, before Damian knocked him out of the fight with a knee to the face. The young man turned around and saw Somah, who had also retrieved one of those electric batons, hit the alien in the face with the weapon. The creature's skull dug in a few inches before it collapsed to the ground.

"Come on, let's go!"

They left the cell and arrived in a long corridor. The corridor was lined with these small electric fields, about ten of them, indicating to Damian that there were probably as many cells like theirs around them.

"We should get the other people locked in here out," Damian said as he approached what looked like a light switch.

He heard a metallic hiss and turned his head. At the end of the corridor to his right, a door had just opened and two other aliens were rushing towards them. Damian jumped back and dodged a bludgeon shot. He gave the alien a blow and it staggered. Somah kicked the alien which was thrown against the electric field. It convulsed and its body began to smoke. The alien squealed and collapsed face down.

The second alien started to run away but Somah caught it and killed it by crushing its skull under the electric baton.

The cells were mostly empty. Damian found only the body of a man in an Enclave uniform and a woman. She was wearing an outfit similar to that of the Rivet City Guards and was sitting on the floor.

"Come on, we have to get out of here," Damian said as he approached her.

The woman remained motionless. Damian was about to grab her by the arm when he noticed that her eyes were slightly backward and glassy, that a thin stream of slime was dripping from her lips and that she had two circular burn scars on her temples. The woman spoke unintelligible words, closer to an infant's babbling than real words.

"Nothing can be done for her," Somah said. "Let's get out of here before more of these little bastards show up."

Damian left the woman to her fate, not without regrets, and headed for the door the aliens had come through. They arrived in a large room with what looked like chairs and computer consoles. Somah approached one of the doors and tried to open it while Damian searched the room. Large rectangular consoles, emitting blue lights, were all over the room. What most intrigued Damian, apart from the general appearance of everything around him, were the blue circles that turned and floated in the air in front of the console. Damian carefully moved his hand forward and it passed through. He felt a slight electric tingling and saw the hairs on the back of his hand slowly standing up. A holographic projection. Damian had vaguely heard about it in a book in the Vault.

"Damn, that door's jammed," Somah spat.

Damian looked in her direction. The woman palpated the wall looking for a switch but found nothing.

"There's an airlock there," Damian said.

They went through the airlock and through the door at the end that slid open when they arrived. Another block of cells lay ahead of them. Damian walked forward and heard a small voice.

"Hey, hello!"

He looked at Somah, who was looking in all directions. At least he hadn't dreamt about that voice.

"A little further to your right!"

Damian saw that the voice came from behind the electric field of a cell. He and Somah approached and saw a small human figure on the other side. It was a little girl with blond hair. She was wearing a blue tarnished and torn skirt and a white jacket with pink sleeves.

"Are you running away? Hey, you want me to show you the rest of the ship? I know it very well!" cried the little girl locked up.

"Who... Who are you?" Somah asked.

"My name's Sally and I'm 11 years old. So, you want me to show you the ship?"

"This place is dangerous. It's best that you stay here until..."

Sally cut Damian off by shaking her head.

"If you go off on your own, you're going to get lost and this place is, like, super big!"

"Sure, kid, let the adults handle the thing, we'll come back for you later," said Somah.

Somah signaled Damian to follow her. He thought of the woman from Rivet City, lobotomized in her cell and looked at the little girl.

"Sally, isn't it?" Damian asked.

The little girl nodded her head.

"My name is Damian, and this is Somah. Tell us, how long have you been here?"

"Oh, I don't know. It's been a long time since I've been here with them. I arrived with my family when the bombs fell."

"The bombs? Wait, can you tell me when you were born?" Damian asked.

"April 15, 2066, why?"

Damian and Somah looked at each other stunned.

"That's impossible," Somah whispered. "Were you born before the Great War?"

"All I know is that I've been on the ship for a very long time so I've been able to explore it many times, but every time the aliens caught me, they put me here or in a closet where it's very cold."

"How do we get you out of here?" Damian asked.

"See that thing over there?"

As best she could, Sally pointed down the hall. A strange cylindrical device was stuck in the floor, connected by cables to three small pylons and a switch. Sally explained to them how to activate the device, as a child would, by imitating sound effects and making grand gestures.

"Once the things are out of the ground, they have to be pushed down quickly and then you have to move away quickly."

"Okay, wait a minute."

Damian walked away with Somah towards the device. It reminded him of a generator and if its destruction was going to disable the electric camps then it was a power source. Damian pressed the switch in front of him and the center of the generator began to whistle and come out of the ground, in a noise similar to the one Sally described. A large black cylinder with yellow lights slowly rose from the center of the generator, while from the three pylons, three small translucent tubes appeared, and white mist came out of the openings.

"Well, let's see if it works," Somah whispered. "Do you really trust that kid?"

"We're all stuck here, aren't we?"

Somah shrugged and put her hands on one of the tubes and pulled them out immediately.

"Fuck me! This thing is fucking cold!"

Damian, who was still wearing only his underwear, could feel the temperature suddenly drop as he approached. He hit one of the tubes and it broke. The generator began to rumble.

"I like your style," Somah said with a smile.

She broke the tube in front of her and the third one. The generator roared louder and louder. Damian and Somah walked away. They hid against a wall and heard a bang. The generator was destroyed, and the next moment the electric fields in the cells disappeared and an alarm began to sound. Sally jumped out of her cell and walked to the large room with the door locked. Damian and Somah followed her and when they arrived at the door, Sally leaned against the wall and tore off a small grate before slipping inside.

"Huh? But where's she going?" Somah exclaimed.

Damian called the little girl but got no answer.

"Great, and now what?"

Somah looked around, nervous and angry. The door whistled and opened. Sally stood on the other side, a triumphant smile on her face.

"I told you I knew the ship!"

"Okay, now where are we going, Sally?" Damian asked.

The little girl pointed to the corridor behind her.

"We have to get to the big central engine and then I could show you the rest of the ship from there, but first we have to go through the engine room."

"All right, we'll follow you."

They advanced into the corridor. To his left Damian noticed a small room with shelves and large white and grey boxes emitting blue light. Intrigued he entered. It was a storage room. All the clothes, personal effects and weapons of the alien captives were in there.

"Jackpot," Somah smiled, opening one of the boxes and grabbing a 12-gauge shotgun.

Damian found his bag and armor, which he quickly put on.

"Here," he said, handing out a box of cakes to Somah and Sally. "It's not much, but it'll be better than fighting on an empty stomach."

The girls ate their meager share and Damian finished strapping on his holster for his gun. He frenetically searched the rest of the trunks but found nothing else. He had managed to retrieve all his belongings, even the mine he had taken from Minefield. Damian grumbled when he saw the neutralized explosive, thinking that he would never have been in this situation if Moira had never asked him to bring a mine to her.

Equipped, they left the room. Suddenly, a blue ray passed close between them and crashed into the wall. A small group of aliens headed towards them, some with batons, others with energy weapons. Damian grabbed Sally by the waist and lifted her off the ground. He rushed to the first door he could find and walked through it. He looked over his shoulder but did not see Somah. Damian fired a few rounds of ammunition at the aliens. Somah was still out of his sight. He cursed and let the door close before firing at what must have been the control box. He heard the aliens knocking against the door which refused to open.

He turned around. They were in a different part of the ship where long pipes were running down the walls. The place was bathed in an orange light and it was very hot.

"That's the boiler room," Sally said. "There are lots of steam pipes here and further on is the engine room. I know how to get across, but it's going to be hard for you."

"What do you mean?" Damian asked.

"You're too big for the pipes."

Damian looked at the little girl who showed him a ventilation grid.

"Okay, Sally. Do you think you can hide in those vents and guide me?"

"Yes, I can do that," the little girl answered.

Damian gave her a reassuring smile. The aliens now intended to kill them, and it was certain that they would not care that Sally was a little girl. He watched the girl go down the vent and heard her whisper that everything was all right.

"All right, you have to go straight ahead and then left."

Damian prepared his rifle and began to move into the maze of corridors in the boiler room.

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**We just started the Mothership Zeta DLC. I tried my best not to put a sci-fi reference in every dialogue. Initially, it would have been the first DLC to enter in the main story, as Operation Anchorage was to arrive later in the story, but I did not found any credible reason or way to put it in the story.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Until next time.**


	28. Chapter 28: Historical relics

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well and that coronavirus is not making you too worry. Perfect time to stay at home and play video games, watch TV and writing/reading Fallout stories. Please enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

The boiler room was a veritable maze of corridors. Damian had felt like he had been walking for hours and he probably would have been lost long ago if Sally had not been a great guide to him. The little girl known the way through the ship extremely well, as she had explained it to Damian and Somah. She would point him in the right direction and warn him about the alien patrols. In the vents where she was, she could access the electrical panels on some of the doors and thus allow Damian to hide from larger groups of aliens.

The heat in the boiler room was, not surprisingly, stifling. Damian wiped the sweat from his forehead and face. He had never been so hot, even when the air conditioning system in the Vault had broken down on his 17th birthday. In addition to the alien patrols, he had to avoid the steam from certain pipes. He also had to move forward slightly bent over. These corridors weren't meant for humans to wander freely, but for aliens, who were smaller.

He heard Sally's voice warning him of a group of aliens. Damian stood in the recess of a closed door and observed between two steam pipes a group of seven aliens a little further away. The aliens were at a fork in the corridor and it seemed that they were not willing to move.

"It looks like they're standing guard," Sally whispered. "And that's the only way to continue to the engine room. I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

Damian continued to observe the aliens for a few moments when a thought popped into his head. He aimed his rifle and placed one of the pipes on the wall in his sight. He pulled the trigger and the 5.56 cartridge went into the pipe on the wall, releasing a thick stream of burning steam that enveloped three of the aliens. The aliens squealed and whistled in pain. One of the aliens cut off the steam by turning a crank. The three aliens were dead and the remaining four were looking for the source of the fire. Damian eliminated the four aliens and after waiting a brief moment to make sure all were dead, he left his cover and continued to move forward.

"You're so strong," said Sally with admiration. "Like Captain Cosmos."

Damian couldn't help smiling. He walked past the bodies of the aliens and crouched down next to one of them. His skin and clothes were covered with burns from the steam, and the alien was holding what looked like a long gray gun in his hand. The barrel was made in one piece and ended in a sort of funnel, and there were bands of blue light on the top of the gun. Damian picked up the gun. It was very light but not made to be handled by a human being.

He heard a squeak beside him and dropped the alien rifle and pointed his assault rifle at the noise. Right next to him was a small control room and lying underneath a control console, an alien was huddled up. His head was buried under one of his arms while the other was raised towards Damian.

"No, don't shoot!"

Damian looked up briefly at the pipe were Sally's voice was coming.

"These aliens won't hurt you. They're harmless."

The alien was trembling. Damian had time to observe it. Until now, he hadn't had a good look at the aliens' physical appearance, except for their large heads and small limbs with hands ending in three suction cup tentacles. Their heads were devoid of ears and noses. Instead, small slits where the nostrils and ears should be. Likewise, they had no lips or teeth and their tongue was the same shade of green as their skin. Their eyes were round and completely black and it was impossible to know exactly which direction they were looking in.

Generally speaking, the aliens looked a lot like the ones in the pre-war comic books or science-fiction movies Damian had seen in the Vault. This alien there, wearing a red suit and black boots, looked at Damian trembling, protecting his face behind his arms.

"Leave them alone," Sally said insistently.

Damian lowered his rifle and the alien's face showed what Damian interpreted as surprise and relief. Damian walked away. After a few meters he arrived in another room, a very large one. Huge pipes ran from the floor up to the ceiling and then in different directions and disappeared into the walls. Damian walked through it, inspecting every nook and cranny, on the lookout.

The boiler room seemed to be endless. There were always alien patrols and it was getting harder and harder to avoid them. Damian noticed that some of them, were wrapped in what looked like a shiny veil making their bodies seemed to be distorted. The aliens were also accompanied by large brown robots, floating a few centimeters off the ground. Their base and body were triangular, and their heads, oriented perpendicular to the rest, were oval. They had a single yellow eye and were equipped with two long mechanical arms ending in a clamp.

"It sounds like they're really mad at us," says Sally. "It's the first time I've seen these robots and they're scary."

At the corner of a corridor, Damian heard Sally's voice informing him that she would have to take another path.

"Why?" Damian whispered, raising his head to the pipes above his head.

"The pipe goes to the right and the corridor goes straight on. If you continue that way, you should come to large rooms with lots of pipes and at the end there will be the engine room."

Damian kept going and arrived in a small control room. There were two doors in front of him and a corridor to the left. The corridor led to a staircase and then to another door. Damian opened the door and found himself face to face with one of those big brown robots. The machine grabbed Damian with its claws and started to lift him off the floor and tighten its claws. Damian managed to free his hand. He hit the robot's eye with his fist and the machine let go of him and moved backwards.

The young man picked up his assault rifle and fired several rounds into the robot's head. The shots attracted all the aliens in the area. Damian could hear the soles of their boots sliding on the metal floor. He got ready, taking cover against a console. The aliens came through a small door and Damian pulled the trigger on his gun and emptied his magazine in their direction.

He reloaded and jumped out of his cover. All the aliens were dead and lying on the ground. Damian let out a sigh and looked around. The room was just as Sally had described it. Large pipes meandered through the middle and small alcoves led to smaller control rooms.

Damian continued through the maze of corridors and control rooms. The surrounding heat coupled with having to avoid alien discharges and being constantly on the lookout was becoming truly unbearable.

After passing through another room filled with steam pipes and descending a staircase, Damian heard a little scream and felt something fall on him.

"Ouch..."

Sally moaned as she massaged her lower back. She lowered her head and startled. She had fallen out of the vent pipe and had landed right on Damian. The young man was lying on his stomach and was growling.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Damian!"

"Don't worry," Damian growled.

Sally stepped aside to let Damian get up.

"Where are we now?" Damian asked, rubbing the back of his head that had hit the ground.

"We shouldn't be too far from the engine room anymore. It's at the end of this corridor. But we have to be careful. Last time there were those weird cannons in the ceiling."

Damian looked down the corridor.

"Okay, stay here, I'll go and make sure it's safe."

"Wait, Mr. Damian."

Sally reached into her jacket pocket and gave Damian a small fluorescent blue bottle.

"What's that?" Damian asked, taking the bottle and twisting it between her fingers.

"It's a gel that aliens use for their wounds. It heals almost instantly, but you have to be careful. Last time, it gave me a headache. This is for you."

Damian uncorked the bottle. He poured some of the contents onto his index finger. A viscous, sticky liquid of a bright blue color. The thing was cold to the touch and smelled quite strong. He put the rest of the bottle in one of his saddlebags. If this substance could heal him, then he could save the small stock of Stimpaks he had with him for later, although he suspected that the gel might have side effects on non-external organisms, other than a headache.

The corridor led to a walkway that overlooked a set of pipes that ran in all directions. At the end of the walkway, Damian saw a doorway, marked by a hologram, a three-dimensional hexagon, crossed from top to bottom by four parallel lines and surrounded by circles of varying sizes. On the ceiling near the door, Damian noticed a turret. Its design was much the same as those he had encountered in the metro on Earth.

The turret turned towards him and Damian hid behind a pipe. The turret stood still for a moment before returning to its original position. Damian got down on one knee, aimed his weapon and fired. Sparks flew out of the turret and it fell slightly from the ceiling, revealing a set of electrical cables.

The way was clear, and Damian called Sally so she could join him and they entered the engine room.

The door led to a staircase and then to a small hallway where two doors faced each other. Sally walked past Damian and went down the right-hand door. He arrived in a small observation room with a second staircase on his left. In front of him was a large bay window and on the other side, Space.

Damian approached the window, fascinated. A black layer covered everything and on top of it, millions of small dots of varying degrees of light. On the right, Damian saw the sun which looked so different from how it looked from Earth.

"Come, follow me," said Sally, who had already climbed the stairs.

Damian took his eyes off the glass window and joined her. The upstairs must have been a storage room for the aliens, judging by the large number of chairs, tables, boxes and strange objects that piled up in the corners. Sally was standing in front of a metal ring in the floor. A small semi-circular railing surrounded the base and next to it was a control console.

Sally pressed several buttons, excitedly. She frowned and pressed the buttons again.

"Something wrong?" Damian asked.

"They cut it off. I wanted to show you the top of the ship, but it's impossible if it's off."

"What is it?"

"It's like an elevator, except it doesn't just go up and down. And then it tingles when you use it. There's the same thing in Captain Cosmos. He uses it to teleport himself and Jangles."

They heard the door on the floor below them whistle and Damian pointed his gun at the staircase. Somah climbed the stairs and stopped when she saw Damian and Sally.

"You made it," Damian said as he lowered his rifle.

"Yes, I wanted to follow you, but the little bastards cut me off several times. I heard a few shots in the boiler room and I headed towards the shooting, thinking it was you and I got here. I'm glad you're safe, too."

She approached them and looked around.

"What is this place?"

"This is an observation deck," Sally answered, visibly proud to know something that the adults did not know. "The aliens also use it to stock material. There's weird stuff in some of these crates, but there's also stuff from Earth and lots of Buttercup toys."

The little girl seemed disappointed that she couldn't use the teleporter. Suddenly her face lit up with a broad smile and she began to run to another room.

"Sally, where are you going?" asked Somah.

"Come on! I know another way to get to the top of the ship!"

Damian and Somah exchanged intrigued glances and followed the little girl. She led them into a huge room. In the center, a gigantic glass sphere, containing a pipe several centimeters in diameter, surrounded by metal, slowly turning on itself.

"What's that thing?" Somah asked, looking at the machine.

"I think it's the heart of the ship. The main power source that runs everything," explained the little girl.

"Then we have an advantage over them," Somah smiled. "As long as we occupy this place, we have the right of life and death on their ship."

"Yes, but if we destroy the power core, we risk blowing up everything and ourselves with it," Damian objected. "And I doubt that we'll be able to repel them, just by the two of us. On the other hand, if the place is so important, they'll try to dislodge us without risking destroying everything."

As Damian started to mumble to himself about how to organize a defensive position, they walked by the slowly buzzing energy core. Damian had always found Vault-Tec's technology to be the pinnacle of perfection, especially after what he had seen in the Capital Wasteland, but compared to alien technologies, Vault 101 was relegated to the status of a Stone Age cavern.

Sally led them through the great hall to a much smaller room. It was colder there, and Damian noticed the same kind of white mist he had seen near the cell generator. In the middle of the room was a large console with what looked like a pump, letting out this white mist. Four pods with blue glass were facing each other.

Damian approached and saw that inside there was a man.

"What the hell is that? said Somah in a stunned voice.

Damian looked over his shoulder and saw that the woman was standing in front of another of these pods. Inside was another man, wearing a strange black suit and a helmet. The man facing Damian had a small moustache and a goatee. He was wearing a cowboy outfit. At first, Damian thought it was a Regulator, but it held, seemed... Genuine. He and the man in the strange armor had frost on their face and clothes, as if they were frozen.

"It's cool, isn't it?" Sally exclaimed.

She placed herself in the middle of the room.

"This one looks like a cowboy, like in the books and this one behind is even cooler, he looks like he's wearing some kind of armor. But the coolest is this one."

Sally walked to the pod next to Damian. Inside, Damian recognized the suit of an astronaut.

"Who are these people Sally?" Somah asked.

"I don't know... I know that aliens have lots of boxes like those ones and when they put people in them, it's very cold and they fall asleep for a long time."

"Cryonics," Damian whispered.

"Yeah, that's the word!" cried Sally. "I saw my daddy read a newspaper about it once."

Sally's face saddened. Damian easily guessed what fate the aliens had befallen him and the little girl's mother.

"But, how is this going to help us get upstairs?" asked Damian.

"Well, thanks to the astronaut."

Sally looked at Damian, surprised he didn't understand.

"If we're going to escape the ship, we're going to have to go out into Space and we're going to need him and his spacesuit. Since the elevators don't work anymore, we're going to need the astronaut's suit."

Damian wasn't convinced but he didn't have much choice. Sally knew the ship better than he did and if he wanted to return to Earth one day, he was going to have to trust her.

"Okay, Sally, let's wake these people up and go talk to that astronaut."

The little girl gave him a big smile that Damian couldn't help but smile back. One by one, Damian activated the cryo-chambers.

The first to be released was the man in black armor. He staggered out of the pod and looked around. He was of Asian descent and Damian finally remembered where he had seen that armor. The man looked at Damian and Somah and was startled.

"Nani? Onushi wa nanimono? Koko wa dokoda?"

"Ah great, he doesn't speak our language," Somah sighed.

The man spoke again but no one understood what he was saying.

"It won't be easy to communicate with him," Damian whispered. "He's a Japanese samurai and I don't think he speaks or understands English."

"Maybe we should put it back in the fridge? That way he won't have to bother us with his gibberish," said Somah.

The man spoke in a tone that suggested he was upset. Damian tried to calm him down by raising his hands.

"Calm down, we won't hurt you."

The man looked at Damian, his face impassive. Damian put his hand to his chest and said his name. He did it again, feeling deeply stupid and feeling that he was offending his interlocutor more than anything else. The man, his face still expressionless, finally uttered a word that Damian interpreted as his name.

"Toshiro... Well, we'll try to cooperate as best as we can," Damian said with a smile.

The man was always impassive. He walked away, leaving Damian alone.

"Nice to meet you too," said the young man to himself.

Damian walked towards Somah who was helping to break out a second captive. The latter, a man, had blond hair falling on his shoulders. He wore white battle armor and gray fatigues. Looking at him, Damian recognized the US Army winter uniform from the Battle of Anchorage.

"Private Tercorian," read Damian on the breastplate of the soldier's armor.

The man looked around and when he saw Damian, Somah and Toshiro, he began to panic.

"Huh? What's the hell? Who are you?"

"Calm down, you..."

Damian didn't have time to finish his sentence when the man cut him off.

"I remember, the aliens, the interrogations..."

He looked at Damian and Somah before continuing.

"Private Elliott Tercorien, US Army medic, serial number 3477809. I'm not telling you aliens anything."

"Do we really look like aliens to you?" Somah asked. "Looks like pre-war army medics weren't that great."

"What makes me think you're not human-looking aliens or that they're controlling your mind?" asked the soldier.

"Elliott, do you really think we'd have gotten you out of your cryogenic tank if we were aliens?"

The soldier seemed pensive for a few moments.

"I... I guess not," he said, he was unconvinced.

"Well, why don't you go sit over there and cool off a little bit."

Somah helped him walk and sat in a chair. Damian looked for Toshiro and saw him on his knees, fists clenched and eyes closed in a corner of the room. He turned to another pod and saw Sally standing in front of it.

"I can't wait to have a conversation with this astronaut. I wonder what time he is from and if he knows Captain Cosmos.

"Let's ask him for help first," said Damian.

The cryo-chamber opened slowly and the astronaut collapsed on himself. Damian knelt beside him and took off his helmet. Inside was a skeleton. Sally let out a little scream, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Somah, who had just finished getting the cowboy out of his pod, joined Damian.

"Well, it looks like our friend had a freezer breakdown," she said bitterly.

"Poor astronaut," sighed Sally.

She looked at Damian, then at the spacesuit then to Damian again.

"What?" asked Damian who did not like the look of the young girl.

"You're going to have to take his suit and get out yourself."

"Huh?"

Damian dropped the skeleton and looked at Sally and Somah.

"Wait, Sally, I've never been to space, it must be very complicated and..."

"It's the only way we can get the hell out of here, and I don't see one of them doing it."

Somah pointed to the three men sitting behind them.

"For me, that's also out of the question. This suit is much too small for me," Somah added.

Damian looked at them again. He sighed and nodded.

"Well, it looks like I don't have much choice. Do you really trust me on this?"

"We're stuck here until further notice, so yes. Besides, you seem like a decent guy, you're not going to abandon us, and you don't want to die here until you see our beloved Wasteland again.

"You're as strong as Captain Cosmos, Mr. Damian. You're the only one who can do it, but it's going to be complicated."

Damian sighed. He ran his hand through his hair. These people trusted him, and their successful escape and survival depended on him.

"We should fortify this place first, so they don't come and dislodge us with laser guns, and I suggest we rest for a while. These people probably need to get their heads together and get over their cryo-sleep and doing anything in this condition won't help.

Somah nodded. Damian got up and they helped Eliot, the samurai and the cowboy walk to the observation deck, wondering if they would ever be able to leave this place and go back to Earth alive.

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**Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed and until next time.**


	29. Chapter 29: A cunning plan

**Hello, everyone, hope you are doing well. Not a lot of action in this chapter, my apologies. Please enjoy.**

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_(The Citadel)_

Sarah Lyons lowered her laser rifle and looked at her target, a training dummy disguised as a Super Mutant, strewn with laser impacts and burn marks. She grabbed a new microfusion cell and angrily snapped it into her weapon. She had swapped her power-armor for grey fatigues. Every time she would get out of her power armor, she would be the target of discreet look from the male Brotherhood soldiers.

Sarah was an attractive woman, that was what most of the men in the Brotherhood said and thought but being one of the Chapter's top ranking officer and the daughter of Elder Lyons, all men in the Brotherhood had given up the idea of a romantic relationship with her, even though some would look at her as Sarah Lyons, a young and attractive woman and not Sentinel Lyons, the warrior and Super Mutant slayer. Today, however, other Brotherhood soldiers were not giving her that type of look and would actually not look at her at all. They had known for long that when Sarah was in this state of mind, it was best not to disturb her.

She and the rest of the Lyons Pride had been trapped in the Citadel compound for almost two weeks. Her father had ordered her daughter and her men to stay at the fortress and await his orders. All Brotherhood of Steel operations were on standby. No one could enter or leave the Citadel. Outside, Brotherhood units were ordered to hold their position and wait further notice.

Waiting, if there was one thing Sarah hated, it was waiting. Since she was trapped in the Citadel, Sarah could hear the soldiers sharing what little information they had about the Enclave. Few of her brothers and sisters in arms in Washington D.C. knew exactly what the Enclave was, and even fewer were the members of the Brotherhood who had faced it some thirty years ago.

As the daughter of the Elder of this Brotherhood Chapter, Sarah knew as much as the commanders and the rest of the senior officers of the Brotherhood, but until recently, she would never have imagined that the Enclave would resurface here. To her, the Enclave had disappeared a decade or so before she was born, crushed by the Brotherhood and a growing faction in the West, the Republic of New California.

To think that somewhere on the western side of what was once the United States, a faction rivaling the Brotherhood of Steel in power, was trying to restore some semblance of order to the Wasteland and re-establish a political regime based on the old world, while here in Washington D.C., the law of the strongest reigned, was depressing, and anyone who mentioned the Republic of New California to the people of Megaton or Rivet City would immediately be taken for an crazy man.

"Sentinel."

Sarah engaged the safety of her rifle and laid it noisily on the table in front of her before turning around. Paladin Vargas, the second in the chain of command of the Pride, stood in front of her.

"What's wrong, Vargas?" asked the young lady.

"The Elder and Scribe Rothchild asked to see you."

Sarah hoped inwardly that her father would finally give her the order to go into action against the Enclave or that he would assign her a mission in the ruins. At that point, any mission would fit, as long as she could leave the Citadel.

"All right, let's get going."

Sarah unloaded her weapon and gave it to a young boy in a gray suit. She followed Vargas to the interior of the Citadel. They walked down several corridors until they reached a large meeting room, guarded by two soldiers in power armor.

Two large U-shaped wooden tables faced each other in the center of the room. Eight chairs were arranged around them and small piles of reports and maps were in front of each one. On each side of the room were two flags of the Brotherhood. At the back of the room, a small recess was separated by a grid. On the wall inside was a pre-war propaganda poster depicting a soldier in power armor, standing over a pile of Chinese corpses and waving a large American flag. The poster, badly damaged, was completed by the words _"Courage today, victory tomorrow!"_. The rest of the room was occupied by tables with coffee machines and bottled water.

Sarah and Vargas entered the room. Elder Lyons sat at the table on the right, facing the entrance, turning his back on the propaganda poster. To his right, the scribe Rothchild sat at the other table. He was accompanied by two other scribes. Sarah saw the rest of Lyons' Pride sitting around the table. She noticed four other people she had never seen before. They weren't members of the Brotherhood, she was sure of that. They wore green battle armor and had a white emblem on the breastplates of their armor.

"Sentinel, Paladin. Thank you for joining us."

Elder Lyons stood up and pointed to some chairs for them. Sarah sat down beside her father, and Vargas sat down beside her.

"Very well," said the Elder sitting down in turn. "Before we begin this meeting, I would like to introduce the members of the Reilly's Rangers, who have agreed to meet us."

Reilly and her men stood up slightly and nodded to the assembly.

"The reason we've called you all here is to discuss the further operations of the Brotherhood and an agreement with the Reilly's Rangers regarding the latest events."

Lyons let one of Rothchild's scribes speak who presented a tactical assessment of the situation. The Enclave continued to deploy troops in and around the Jefferson Memorial and there were more and more reports from Brotherhood units in the ruins of D.C. of ever-increasing numbers of combat patrols and outposts.

"Similarly, we have still not been able to locate the main base of the Enclave and because of the range of their Vertibird, it is most likely far from here and locating it in these conditions may take a long time."

Sarah listened carefully to the scribe's reports. She was biting her inner cheek, convinced that this news was not going to move the situation towards the military option and a frontal assault on the Enclave. As far as their enemies were concerned, nothing new was communicated, except that their technology seemed more advanced.

When the time came to talk about an agreement and cooperation with Reilly's Rangers, Reilly proposed that she and her Rangers provide information on the Enclave's activities in the ruins of D.C. in exchange for computer equipment in better condition than they already had. Instead, Lyons offered to assist the Brotherhood in the event of an open conflict with the Enclave, in return for a payment. Sarah was not very happy about this idea, but in the end her father was the commander-in-chief of the Chapter and the decision was his.

Reilly and her men left the meeting room under Sarah's glance, having unanimously accepted the offer. The prospect of the Brotherhood's help against Super Mutants and the Enclave was too tempting for Reilly to refuse, especially after the Vernon Square fiasco.

"All right, we'll now move on to the final topic of this meeting. Scribe Rothchild?"

"Thank you, Elder."

The scribe and one of his assistants stood up. The latter distributed small files to those present.

"The file just distributed to you is a digest of everything we were finally able to get from the Vault-Tec computer in our archives," Rothchild explained.

The assembly went through the small file. It was a list of Vault-Tec fallout shelters and their technical specifications, such as the number of residents and the total length of confinement that the Vault had to respect before opening.

"As you can see," continued the scribe. "This is a list of the Vault built by Vault-Tec in the Capital Wasteland. The one we're most interested in is Vault 87."

Sarah turned the pages of the file to the page about Vault 87. She raised her head to her father and to Rothchild when she read the page.

"Vault 87 is the only one on this list to have a G.E.C.K.," Rothchild explained. "Of course, the risk that the G.E.C.K. was never delivered must be taken into account, in which case we would be back to where we started."

"Do you think the Enclave has this information?" Sarah asked.

"It's a possibility that should not be overlooked," answered her father. "We must prepare for this eventuality and consider frontal military action against the Enclave. That's why I had invited the Reilly's Rangers to this meeting. I am aware that four mercenaries will not change the course of the war that is looming on the horizon, but given the circumstances and our increasingly small numbers, any help is welcome, especially if Doctor Li's team is unable to restore Liberty Prime.

"Elder," said Rothchild. "I can assure you that Madison and I are doing everything we can to make it operational, but this is very complicated technology. Getting back to the G.E.C.K., I think it would be fair to let Professor Franklin's son participate. Without him and his discoveries, the purifier would just be another failed science project."

Lyons crossed his hands under his chin and thought for a moment.

"The idea of putting this young man's life in danger is distasteful to me," he finally said. "But he's already involved with Project Purity from the beginning. I agree with Scribe Rothchild that we should honor James' memory by allowing his son to finish what he started. Besides, it seems he's the only one who knows, the activation code for the purifier."

_(Three hours earlier, alien ship)_

The small group of survivors was gathered in front of the bays of the observation deck. Everyone had made their own little comment when they saw the vacuum of Space stretching out in front of them. Damian had helped Somah and Elliot fortify the engine core room. In a small storage room, they had found crates and old furniture salvaged from Earth by the aliens and placed them across the bridges, blocking access to the observation deck, while the door to the boiler room had been blocked by Somah, who had managed to tinker with the control panel.

While they were preparing the area to defend themselves for an attack, Damian had got to know the other captives a little better. Elliot was a 25-year-old doctor. He had been drafted to fight the communist invasion of Alaska just before the Great War. He and his team were abducted one night while in their trench on the front lines and he hadn't heard from them since.

Toshiro hadn't been talkative since his liberation and the fact that no one understood him didn't help. Damian was quite amazed to meet and talk, or at least try to talk, with someone who was born centuries before the Great War and it made no doubt that Toshiro, if that was really his name, was the oldest human being alive.

The cowboy was a rather unfriendly man named Paulson. Damian couldn't help thinking that he was the embodiment of all the stereotypes about cowboys. He too didn't talk much, but Damian felt that it was more because of what he had seen or experienced since he had been on the ship than because of his personality. He also seemed to have pure hatred towards the aliens, much more than the other members of the group.

After securing the engine room and resting for a few hours, Damian went to search a small storage room next to the observation deck. He came across an alien crate and opened it. Inside, he came across the weapons and personal effects of the three captives. He tilted Elliot's rifle over his shoulder and hooked Paulson's revolver to his belt before grabbing a large sword from its scabbard. He drew the blade and looked at it for a few moments. Japanese inscriptions were located at the base of the blade. The handle was surrounded by a thin string of black leather.

He left the storage room and returned to the deck. Somah stood guard at the entrance, sitting behind a pile of objects, her shotgun at hand. Paulson was sleeping, his feet on a table and his hat lowered over his eyes. Damian woke him up with a slap on the knee.

"What?" the cowboy growled as he put his hat back on.

Damian handed him his gun. Paulson took it in his hands and rotated the cylinder. An expression of satisfaction crossed his face and he thanked Damian with a slight nod. Damian returned his rifle to Elliot who quickly adjusted the strap.

Damian looked for Toshiro and found him in a corner of the room. He was on his knees, hands on his thighs and eyes closed. Damian approached silently and waited a few seconds before clearing his throat.

The samurai looked up at him and began to speak.

"Sorry, Toshiro, but I still don't understand, but I found this, and I think it's yours."

He handed the sword to the samurai, who stared at it before getting up. Still as impassive as ever, he reached out his hands and gently grabbed the sword. He took the blade out of its sheath and inspected it. He put his weapon back, placed it on his hip and took a few steps away. He stood still for a few seconds before he drew his sword and rotated and whistled the blade in an incredibly fast sequence. He put the blade away by sliding it against the tip of the scabbard and turned towards Damian. His face inexpressive, he bowed slightly forward and spoke. Not quite sure how to react, Damian bowed back.

"Hey, I think we all need to talk about a plan?"

Damian turned around and saw Somah and the others standing in front of him. He nodded.

The group was gathered on the upper level of the observation deck. Damian looked at them one by one before he spoke.

"Well, I guess everyone here wants to run away from this place. Problem, the only way back to Earth is through the command deck of this ship. The aliens use these machines to move from one point on the ship to another."

He pointed to the teleporter beside him.

"Thing is," Damian continued. "They've shut down this one and we're stuck in this room. The only way left is to go outside and activate the teleporter at the source."

"Uh, forgive me for asking, but how do you plan to do that?" Elliot asked.

"With the astronaut's suit. It's a little old, but it doesn't look damaged, so I should be able to get out without any problem."

"Wait a second, who decided you were the boss here?"

Paulson stared at Damian. The young man didn't respond to the provocation and simply but firmly explained.

"No one, but after taking the situation under every angle, it seems I'm the only one who can. The suit's too small for Somah and I also doubt it fits you or Elliot. I also doubt that you would agree that the samurai should be the one to take care of it, as we can't understand him or make ourselves understood, and Sally is obviously too small for the suit."

Paulson remained silent before grumbling something and sitting down.

"It will be very difficult to get to the door to get out," said Sally. "But I know how to do it."

Everyone looked at the little girl.

"You can go through that door, but they have to expect you to come," Sally continued.

She pointed to a door next to them that they had blocked with furniture and crates.

"But I know how to make it easier for you. You can blow all the air out of this part of the ship."

"Will it clear the air in here too?" Elliot asked nervously.

"No," said Sally, shaking her head. "Just at the door that leads to the outside. Here we'll be safe."

"Okay, and how do we do that?" Paulson asked.

"There are generators that supply certain parts of the ship with air. We're going to have to shut some of them down. From here we can only get to three parts of the ship without the teleporter. The cryo-lab, the hangar and where they assemble the robots. If you shut down those three, that should be enough," explained Sally.

Everyone looked at each other briefly. Damian, sensing that Elliot and Paulson were wondering if entrusting their lives to a young man and a little girl was a good idea.

He grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and started drawing the generator he had seen in the cell block.

"There, that's what it looks like," he said, pointing to his drawing. We don't have much time, every minute we're here gives them one more chance to attack this place and put us back in a cryo-pod or kill us. We should take care of the generators at the same time, so they don't get the same idea as us and asphyxiate us."

"But we also have to guard this place," Elliot intervened. "If we all leave to destroy the generators, this place will remain defenseless and I don't think the samurai can change much against a horde of these aliens with their energy weapons."

"That's right," says Damian. "Two people would have to take care of each generator."

Elliot got up from his chair and flipped the strap on his rifle.

"I'll take care of the cryo-lab. If there are people trapped like we were, maybe I can revive them."

Damian thanked him with a nod.

"I'll take care of the robot assembly place. Machines know me," Somah smiled.

"Okay, said Damian. I'll go with Elliot to the lab. As soon as we get back, I'll go with you to take care of the assembly line. If we ever find people in that lab, they're going to need Elliot's help."

He turned to Paulson.

"Paulson, you think you can cover my back in the hangar?"

Paulson remained silent for a moment before answering.

"If that means shooting those little green bastards, then count me in."

"All right," Damian concluded. "Then let's do it."

He grabbed his rifle and headed with Elliot to the back of the engine core room. The door to the cryo-lab was next to the pods where Damian and Somah had found the others. The astronaut's remains were still inside his cryo-pod. When Damian saw him, he prayed that his suit would still be enough to allow him to make his spacewalk. He preferred not to think about what would happen to him if the suit didn't work.

"Are you ready?" Damian asked.

"Yes, well... As ready as you can get to face aliens."

Damian gave Elliot the most comforting smile he could make. He activated the door and rushed in with Elliot.

_(The Citadel, at the same time)_

The meeting had been going on forever. After the departure of the Rangers and Rothchild's presentation on Vault 87, he had briefed Lyons and the Pride on his progress on another project in cooperation with the survivors of Project Purity science team. Madison Li had joined the meeting and had been equal to herself, cold and unpleasant. Sarah understood that for her, it must have been complicated. A scientist who had spent her life working to improve the living conditions of the people of the Capital Wasteland must have been frustrated to have to work on a military project, but in wartime, sacrifices were inevitable.

Sarah had returned to her quarters. As a Sentinel of the Brotherhood, she was entitled to a single room, unlike the other grunts or lower ranks officers. It was nothing luxurious, just a wooden bed, a desk with a terminal and some personal belongings.

In the early evening, Sarah heard someone knocking on the door and went to open it. A young soldier appeared in front of her.

"Sentinel," he said, greeting her with a salute. "Elder Lyons would like to see you in his office."

He went away after standing at attention. Sarah left her room, wondering what her father might want with her.

Sarah knocked on the door and heard her father's voice inviting her in. Elder Lyons' quarters were in an old office. The large wooden table and leather armchair were still there. Several personal belongings were placed on the walls or on counters. Lyons was seating at his desk, finishing to read a file.

"You wanted to talk to me, Elder?" the young woman asked, standing to attention.

"Yes, Sarah," answered the old man. "Please take a sit."

Sarah sat on one of the chairs in front of her father's desk and took a quick look at the file he was reading. It was a personal data file containing only one piece of paper.

The file was about Damian and the few information the Brotherhood had gathered about him. Eeach member of the Brotherhood had a file like this one, comporting basic personal data and military highlights they had perform. For Damian, the information were only a few lines on a piece of paper; His full name and surname, his date and place of birth, height, weight, blood type, a brief physical description and a few lines about his attitude during the Galaxy News Radio rescue mission. There also was a picture of him that one of Lyons men had taken after Damian's arrival at the Citadel. Normally, the picture would have been a more formal one, bit for now, a picture of him during basic combat training was enough.

"What do you think about the young Franklin?" asked Elder Lyons. "I noticed that both of you, were getting along during the few days he was here."

"Well," said Sarah. "He knows how to handle himself, and he has earned my respect during the GNR rescue mission. but I sense that he has the tendency of running headfirst into trouble."

Sarah paused for a moment.

"Actually, I also wanted to talk to you about him, father."

"Really? Why?"

"Permission to speak freely?" asked Sarah after a brief silence.

Lyons nodded.

"You know what I think about your decision to incorporate local civilians to our ranks. I only fought with Damian Franklin once and I only spent a few days training him at the Citadel, but I would not want to exchange him against a hundred of local volunteers. That's why I wanted to ask you to accelerate his recruitment process. That's the only reason why, when he asked me to train him, I agreed, and I think that allowing him to leave the Citadel on his own was a mistake."

Lyons listened to her daughter in silence. An almost imperceptible smile appeared on his face, before quickly fading away.

"The decision of young Franklin to join us will be his only. If I talked to you about him, it's because I have a mission for you," said the Elder.

Sarah tried to hide her enthusiasm.

"Given the recent events, I'd like you to find young Damian Franklin and tell him about the current situation and bring him back here. I think he'll be happy to see that I've finally decided to act."

Sarah said nothing. Damian had disapproved Lyons immediate inaction and secretly, Sarah had shared his feeling, but as Lyons daughter and subordinate, she has obeyed and took on herself.

"You should find him in the town of Megaton," continued the Elder. "I would have preferred to send someone else, but I know he'll be more likely to come, if the message is delivered by someone he trusts. In the meantime, I'll ask Rothchild to keep on digging on the Vault-Tec terminal. If by the time you return the terminal has not given us any more information, I'll send a small team under Vargas' command, to Vernon Square. Their task will be to find the location of the Vaults on Rothchild's list."

Lyons paused and watched his daughter.

"I know you'd rather go on combat patrol in the ruins with your men, but I think you're the best person to convince young Franklin to regain trust in us."

"Don't worry father, I'll bring him back," replied the Sentinel.

Sarah left her father and headed to her quarters. It wasn't the mission she had hoped for, but at least she could leave the Citadel.

At dawn, the young woman prepared for the journey to Megaton. She put on pale blue jeans and a long grey coat reaching to her thighs, as well as a pair of knee-length lace-up boots. She tied a pistol to her thigh and went to the armory to get a laser gun.

The heavy metal gate of the Citadel opened, and Sarah walked towards Megaton, wondering how Damian would react when she would bring him the news.

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**Hope you enjoyed. Until next time.**


	30. Chapter 30: Ride the Lightning

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well. When I started publishing this story, I never thought that people would read it or enjoy it. Now, about a month and 30 chapters later, I'm happy to see I was wrong. Huge thank you to all of you. I know have the full story written and just need to translate it.**

**Please enjoy and thanks for reading.**

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"Jesus, it's so damn cold."

The first room of the cryogenic lab was a large room full of computers and strange equipment. The floor was covered with a small blanket of cold mist or smoke from large tubes near the walls.

Elliott snapped his teeth and walked around looking all around him, as if an alien was about to come out of the floor or the walls. Damian was cold too. After all, they were in a giant freezer.

"I thought you fought in Alaska. Wasn't it cold there during the war?" asked Damian, who remembered how cold he had been during the simulation.

"Yes, but running around trying to save your comrades or avoiding a 500 kilogram shell, is the perfect counter to cold."

"That I can believe."

Seeing Elliott's questioning eyes, Damian told him about his encounter with the Outcast and the Battle of Anchorage simulation.

"Sending people into a video game instead of putting them through three months of training, no offense, but I find that hard to believe. I mean, it's just as crazy as being back here trying to escape from an alien ship."

"I can assure you it's true."

"Yeah, what amazes me is that you agreed to face all this crap on your own free will, while I got my name drawn in the lottery and sent over there."

The room they were in led them to an airlock full of computers and pipes, probably routing and regulating the cooling mist. On either side, large bay windows opened onto smaller rooms.

Damian stepped forward discreetly and glanced through one of the windows. On the other side, he could see several aliens working around the cryogenic chambers. Some contained humans, some contained feral ghouls.

"What are those aliens doing in there?"

Damian looked over his shoulder and saw that Elliott was crouching in front of the other bay window and was probably watching the same spectacle as he was.

"Looks like they're making an inventory of everything they have frozen on their ship," Damian replied, looking through the window again.

The cryo-pods would come out of the ground and the aliens would observe the frozen person or ghoul inside for a few moments, then press a button and the pod would disappear back into the ground before another one took its place.

"What do we do?" asked Elliott.

Damian thought for a few seconds and saw a switch next to him. A small dial was just above it and indecipherable characters were scrolling by. Damian pressed the switch and looked out the window.

Several cryo-pods came out of the floor at the same time and opened. The aliens looked around them and before they could figure out what was going on, four feral ghouls pounced on them, tearing the fragile bodies of the aliens to pieces.

"Press the switch on your side of the glass if there is one," Damian ordered.

Elliott pressed the switch and several pods came out of the floor of the room he was watching. Again, feral ghouls left their cryogenic stasis and attacked the aliens. The ghouls finished shredding their prey and would start to eat them or wander through the room, just as they would in the metro tunnels on Earth.

"What are those… Things?" Elliott asked.

Damian joined him and watched with him the feral ghouls who seemed to enjoy the corpses of the aliens.

"We call them ghouls. When the bombs fell, those who couldn't find refuge in a Vault turned into these decerebrate zombies. A small portion of the ghouls are still normal, in the sense that even though their bodies look like walking corpses, they are still human inside. Others, are ferals and will attack anything on sight, whether it be a human or an animal."

Elliott didn't understand it all. Damian could see that his face was turning green as the ghouls were devouring the alien corpses.

"Let's not stay here," said Elliott, who was about to vomit.

Damian agreed. He managed to lock the door leading to the room the ferals were in and resumed his search for the generator.

The airlock where they were, opened into a corridor. At the end, they could see a large room. Damian pushed Elliott into a small room, a control room with a bay window. The large room was crawling with aliens, and Damian noticed laser turrets on the ceiling.

"How are we going to get through?" Elliott asked.

"It looks like this room serves as a storage area for the cryogenic pods. We could do what we did, free the captives, but I doubt there are only ghouls in those chambers."

Damian looked around. He couldn't see any switches to activate the chambers. One of the computers seemed to be connected to the turrets. If Damian could recalibrate the weapon's targeting system, they'd be able to pass through more easily.

"Cover for me," he said to Elliott.

The soldier nodded silently and pointed the barrel of his gun at the door. Damian pressed a key on the computer. Several lines in an indecipherable language appeared on the screen. Damian selected the first entry. He looked up and saw that the turret appeared to have deactivated. He selected another option and heard a detonation in the room on the other side of the glass. He looked up and saw that the turrets were starting to fire in all directions.

Chaos seized the room as the aliens sought safety while the automatic turrets fired continuously. Some were destroyed by a few aliens fast enough to fire back, but within seconds all the aliens were killed.

Damian glanced out the window and seeing only dead bodies with smoking holes in them or small piles of ash scattered everywhere, he deactivated the turret and smashed the terminal by banging on it with the butt of his rifle.

Elliott stood by the door. He opened the door and looked inside. The turrets were stationary. He gave Damian an interrogating glance. The soldier ejected a bullet from his rifle and threw it into the room. The copper cartridge fell to the metal floor in a small jingling sound. The two men nervously observed the turrets, and, seeing that they were not moving, entered the room.

Damian noticed a small staircase leading down to where the boxes were stored.

"All this racket must have attracted attention," Damian said. "Let's see if those cryo-pods are occupied."

Elliott nodded his head. They went down the stairs and inspected the room independently. The pods were either empty or filled with feral ghouls. Damian found the only chamber occupied by a human. He was wearing an Enclave uniform. Damian pretended not to see him and left the man in cryogenic sleep.

The corners of the room were occupied by shelves where the aliens had stored items recovered from their victims. He heard Elliott's voice behind him.

"I couldn't find anything. What about you?"

Damian took a quick look at direction of the frozen Enclave officer.

"Nothing, let's continue."

The storage room led them down a long corridor that led to a small control room with two doors. A bay window allowed them to see the room on the other side. A small group of aliens were there, bent over human corpses, lying on surgery tables.

"What the hell is that thing?" Elliott whispered. "It looks like a… Surgical room."

He came a little closer and Damian heard him hiccupping in surprise and horror.

"Oh my God!" cried the soldier.

He put his hands on the top of his head and looked at the bodies, horrified. Damian approached in turn. A shiver ran down his back as he saw that the bodies were all open in the stomach or that some of their limbs had been cut off. One of them also had no skin left on his face.

At first Damian thought Elliott had just realized that he probably could have ended up on that autopsy table and that his nerves were failing because of it, but Damian noticed a tattoo on the arm of one of the bodies. A military insignia surmounted the words _"108th Infantry Battalion"_. He looked at Elliott who had walked to one of the command consoles.

The soldier flipped a switch and cryogenic mist jets came out of the floor and ceiling. The aliens rushed to the exits, but their limbs froze and broke off, causing them to fall to the ground. Just before they froze, Damian heard them squealing and whistling in their incomprehensible dialect. One of the aliens threw himself on the glass and started banging his fist on it. His face showed the closest thing to an expression of terror and he froze within seconds. Rigid, he tilted backwards, and his frozen body shattered as he hit the ground.

"So, you bastards, how does it feel?"

Damian let Elliott express his anger. The cryogenic steam jets stopped and after a few seconds, they were able to enter without risk of freezing in place. Damian stood back and watched Elliott gaze at the dead bodies of his fellow units. The soldier put his hand over his eyes and walked to the door to leave the room. On the way out, he crushed the frozen skull of one of the aliens under his boot, which broke into several small pieces of ice. He opened the door and stood still for a few seconds before rushing inside. Damian rushed in behind him. He feared that in his anger, Elliott would throw himself headlong into a final confrontation with the aliens.

He found him standing in front of two cryogenic pods. Damian approached and saw two men in uniforms similar to Elliott's.

"Are they members of your unit? Damian asked.

"Yes," said Elliott. "Sergeant Daniels, and Private Beckett."

Elliott observed his companions for a few moments.

"Do you think you can get them out of cryogenics?" Damian asked.

"Yes, well... It might be a little more complicated than when you released us."

Elliott made his way to the control consoles and monitors scattered throughout the room. He mumbled to himself and after a few minutes he pointed a lever at Damian. Damian operated it and he heard the pods open.

The two soldiers got out of there. They looked around them and massaged their eyes. Sergeant Daniels saw Elliott and frowned.

"Elliott... Where...?"

"I don't have time to explain everything, Sarge. We've been abducted by aliens. It's just the three of us now. Basically, we need to destroy a generator that's located in here."

Elliott briefly explained the situation to his companions. They seemed surprisingly calm and didn't seem shocked to hear about the aliens. He then turned to Damian.

"You should go back to the others," he said. "The faster we destroy these generators, the faster we'll be able to leave this ship."

"Are you sure?" Damian asked.

"Yes. We're going to destroy that generator and we'll meet you later."

Damian nodded.

"Be careful," he said, before turning back to the engine room.

Damian entered the engine room a few minutes later. He found the others gathered in a circle on the observation deck. In the center, an alien was huddled up and was looking frantically at the humans with its hands raised. Damian approached and overheard bits of conversation, each one wondering what to do with the alien. Paulson cut short the conversation and drew his gun. The alien uttered a shrill squeak just before Paulson put a bullet in his skull. The cowboy then pushed the corpse off the gangway with his foot and spat at it after it crashed below the reactor.

"What's going on here?" Damian asked.

Everyone turned to him. Sally made a small pout and Damian noticed that she was holding back tears. Toshiro was as inexpressive as usual and Somah looked indifferent. Paulson had a mixture of rage and satisfaction on his face.

"The aliens attacked us. This one couldn't manage to escape with his friends, so I shot him," Paulson replied, putting his revolver back in its holster. But wat about you? Don't you have a generator to destroy?"

"Yeah," said Somah looking behind Damian. "Where the hell is Elliott?"

"We found members of his unit and managed to revive them. They decided to destroy the generator on their own, and to not waste time, I came back here to help."

"Yeah, okay, let's get to that hangar," Paulson said. "The soldiers and Somah can take care of those robots when they get back."

The cowboy walked away. Damian looked at him out of the corner of his eye before turning to Somah and Sally.

"Is everything all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Somah answered in a neutral tone. "We wanted to eventually take this alien hostage, so they'd give us some breathing, but Paulson drew his gun and blew its head off. I don't know what the aliens did to him, but he hates them more than all of us combined. How about you guys?"

"Yeah... I think we can all be thankful we weren't put in those cryo-pods."

Damian briefly recounted what he'd seen to Somah, who seemed uncomfortable.

"Do you think you can hold this place until we get back?" Damian asked.

"Oh yeah, don't worry," Somah smiled. "The samurai is doing great with his sword and we even found an M134 minigun with Sally. If the aliens come back, they're in for quite a surprise."

Damian nodded. He gave Sally a reassuring smile and walked away to join Paulson.

"Are you ready? Damian asked.

Paulson mumbled an answer and walked through the door to the hangar and Damian followed him with a sigh.

After crossing a hallway, the two men arrived in a large room filled with computers and consoles.

"Holy crap..."

Damian turned his head to the left. Paulson was standing by a railing. In front of him was a huge room. In the center, a circle was dug into the ground and Damian could see light. The circle was surrounded by a dozen metal pylons. On each pylon small discs of different sizes emitted blue light. Damian was about to speak when he heard a noise coming from the circle. The alien ship he had seen crashed in the Capital Wasteland had just appeared in the center of the pylons. The flying saucer was floating softly and swaying toward the pylons. Just before touching them, arcs of energy erupted out of the pylons in a great cracking sound and the alien spacecraft moved back to the center of the circle, as if it had just been pushed by an invisible force. The ship swayed between several pylons before it stopped moving, just floating slowly.

On the walls of the hangar, Damian could see balconies like the one he was standing on. Small groups of extraterrestrials were busy on consoles or chatting and waving their arms.

Paulson put his hand on Damian's shoulder and pointed to one of the balconies.

"I don't know about you, but if I were one of those little green bastards, I would have set up my generator here. If this is the spot that overlooks the whole hangar, that must be where the generator is."

Damian nodded silently. He watched the hangar looking for a way to access this balcony. The control room where they were located was on a corridor blocked by an electric field like that of the cells. The only way was to go down into the hangar, go around the ship and hope to find a stairway going up to the generator.

Damian and Paulson snuck into the hangar. As they walked past the pylons, Damian felt the hairs on his neck and arms bristling.

"I don't know what these things are, but it's better not to get too close to them," Paulson whispered nervously looking at the pylons.

After crossing a hallway, they came to another control room. Three aliens were working on a console. Damian waved at Paulson and they entered the room, shooting at the aliens. Damian heard footsteps in a hallway. He saw two other aliens heading towards them. He aimed his rifle back up and fired. The first alien collapsed to the floor in a squeak. The second alien was shot in the chest, but the bullet ricocheted off the wall and continued on into the wall. The alien raised its gun and fired at Damian who had just enough time to hit a wall. The energy discharge grazed him, and he felt the heat of the ray on his face.

The alien was covered by this strange veil that distorted its silhouette. This mysterious technology acted as a shield and seemed to deflect the bullets. Damian fired again. He saw a shock wave on the veil enveloping the alien, as if he had just thrown a pebble into a lake.

The alien continued to advance as if nothing had happened and fired successively at Damian and Paulson. Damian managed to shoot a third time. This time he noticed that the alien staggered when the bullet hit his shield. He switched his rifle to automatic fire and emptied the rest of his magazine into the alien. The energy shield wavered more and more and finally collapsed. The alien collapsed forward with a squeak.

Damian and Paulson approached with caution. The alien was dead. On his wrist, Damian noticed a small silver metal bracelet with a single button. With his foot, he pressed the button and the veil that had wrapped the alien moments before sprang from the bracelet and covered the corpse. The energy shield sizzled for a few seconds before shutting down.

"What do you think it is?" Paulson asked.

"Some kind of shield or armor. At least we know how to get rid of those who wear one."

They kept moving forward and finally made it to the main control room. From there, they had a clear view of the hangar and the ship. Two robots, the same ones Damian had seen in the boiler room, were in their maintenance box, a ball made of bright steel bars.

The generator room was in the back of the control room, behind a force field. Damian and Paulson approached. The lights sizzled for a few seconds and they felt a small tremor.

"It looks like the soldier and his buddies blew the first generator. It's up to us to blow ours," said Paulson.

Damian nodded. He pushed the switch on the door and an alarm began to sound.

"Damn it," Paulson nodded. "What the hell did you do?"

"Nothing! I just wanted to disable the force field!"

They approached the balcony and saw several aliens entering the hangar, accompanied by robots. The aliens began firing at Damian and Paulson, who flattened on the ground. Damian could see that several aliens were taking the same path as they did.

"The bastards, they set a trap for us!" Paulson cried out.

The laser discharges ceased and Damian heard several aliens running towards them. Paulson raised his revolver and took them out without much difficulty, yelling at them and insulting them in the process.

Damian spotted a control console in front of him. He pressed one of the buttons at random and out of the corner of his eye he saw large electric arcs shooting out of the pylons. The aliens nearby were struck by lightning. Their small bodies lit up and they were thrown into the air and crashed into the walls.

"Jesus, what are those things made of? Thunder?" shouted Paulson while reloading his revolver and looking at the electric arcs.

Damian put his hand on the console and swept it from right to left, pressing as many buttons as he could. The pylons went off one after the other, frying the aliens and their robots, tipping them into the hole under the ship, throwing them against the walls or blowing them up in a small green mist. Behind him, Damian could hear the cowboy's shouting and gunfire.

"Look out! The generator room!"

Damian looked over his shoulder. The force field that blocked access to the generators had disappeared. Damian swung and aimed his rifle.

Silence fell again. The alarm had stopped ringing and the air was filled with the smell of gunpowder and energy weapons. A small groupe of alines had come out of the generator room and had tried to attack Damian and Paulson from behind. Paulson reloaded his revolver and approached one of the aliens, before touching it with his feet, to check if he was dead. They entered the generator room cautiously, verifying that it wasn't another alien trap.

"Let's destroy this thing so we can get it over with," said Paulson after checking to make sure they were alone.

Damian nodded. He activated the generator and the cooling circuits slowly came out of the device. He and Paulson destroyed the generator. The lights in the hangar sizzled for a few seconds before they came back on.

"Two down, one more to go," Damian said as he looked at the smoking remains of the generator. "Let's go find the others."

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed. Until next time.**


	31. Chapter 31: A small step for Mankind

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well. Today, we continue to follow the adventures of Damian and the Zeta captives, as they make their way to the command deck.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

Back at the observation deck, Damian and Paulson went their way. The cowboy sat down at a table and began to clean his revolver. Damian looked for Elliott and Somah with his eyes but didn't see them. Toshiro was as usual on his knees meditating and Sally was crouching next to one of Elliott's teammates. The little girl was bandaging the soldier's arm and turned to Damian before running towards him with a broad smile on her face.

"You did it! So cool!" exclaimed the little girl.

"Not yet," Damian replied. "There's still the generator in the robot assembly line."

"Somah and Mr. Elliott are taking care of it with one of his friends."

Damian looked briefly at the soldier behind Sally and recognized Sergeant Daniels. He must have been injured while trying to destroy the generator in the cryogenic lab.

"How long have they been gone?" Damian asked.

In response, a small detonation was heard somewhere in the ship and the lights flickered for a few seconds.

"Looks like they made it," Daniels said, trying to move his arm.

He got up and turned towards Damian.

"I haven't had a chance to thank you yet for getting me and Beckett out of the fridge."

"You'll thank me later," Damian politely cut him off. "We're nowhere near off the hook."

Daniels nodded silently. He pointed to an object on a table, which Damian identified as the astronaut's suit and spoke again.

"Tercorian explained the situation to me. Your friend made sure the suit wasn't damaged or punctured. So, you ready to kick E.T.'s ass?"

"I don't really have a choice," sighed Damian. "Just give me five minutes, enough time to put on the suit."

Damian took the suit and retired to a small storage room. He looked at the suit for a moment and took a deep breath in before taking off his armor and putting on the suit. His movements were hindered, the astronaut's outfit was obviously not designed to run a marathon. He made his way up the stairs to the observation deck.

Sergeant Daniels, Sally, Toshiro and Paulson were gathered in front of the airlock he had to use. All of them could barely hide their apprehension, except Sally, who was watching Damian with stars in her eyes, and Damian wondered if she realized what was going on around her. Everyone else knew that if Damian ever failed, they would probably get stuck on that ship and be killed by the aliens.

Damian grabbed the helmet from the suit and placed it on his head. The air supply was working and there didn't seem to be any leaks. On his wrist, Damian could see a small gauge on his wrist, indicating the level of oxygen available to him.

"When I activate the transporter, come and join me," he said.

He gave his clothes and armor to Sally and his weapons and Pip-Boy to Daniels.

"You'll give them back to me on the other side."

Daniels nodded silently and Sally gave him a big smile.

Damian took a deep breath and after waving one last time to his fellow misfortune companions, he opened the door and rushed inside. The door closed behind him, putting him into darkness until small orange lights lit up the place.

The airlock was a small oval room, in which pipes and tubes ran along the walls or down into the ground. In the center was a small control console with a switch.

Damian approached the door on the other side of the airlock and tried to open it. The door refused to move. He looked around and noticed that the control console was flashing faintly. Damian approached. The light came from the switch.

"I don't seem to have much choice," he said through the helmet of the suit.

He pressed the switch and an alarm sounded in the airlock. He heard whistling noises coming from all around him. The door he had tried to open activated and let him go deeper into the ship.

It opened into a small storage room full of crates. On the floor, he noticed the bodies of two aliens. Their skin was grey, and their faces were frozen in an expression of terror. One of them was holding his throat and his mouth was wide open as if he had slowly suffocated.

Damian continued to move forward, passing through several corridors and other alien corpses. Everything was silent except for the sounds of his heavy breathing.

He finally arrived in front of another airlock and activated the door. On the other side, a simple staircase. The top was obstructed by a ceiling. Damian turned towards the door when he saw a beam of light appear on the wall. He turned around and saw that the ceiling was slowly opening, revealing a large grey metal structure.

Damian climbed the few steps. He felt his jaw drop. He was standing on a large dome with steel plates and portholes that let him see the corridors of the ship. He looked around and saw nothing. The immense emptiness of Space was so oppressive that Damian felt the urge to go back inside the ship growing inside him. The sun illuminated the ship and made the silver hull of the spaceship shine.

Above him, the upper part of the ship was connected by steel pylons. In the center, Damian noticed a small plate lit by a faint orange light, similar to that of the ship's teleporters. Damian approached it and immediately felt himself being lifted off the ground. He floated for a few seconds before gently resting.

A smile lit up his face. What an extraordinary feeling to feel floating in space and to feel as if his body was getting lighter and lighter. This experience was much more pleasant than when he had been lifted from Earth and abducted. He was serious again when he realized that if he wasn't already floating in the vacuum of space, it was because the ship must have technology that simulated the Earth's gravity. This technology had to be powerful enough to make its effects active even outside the ship.

Damian stared at the teleporter and began to move in its direction. He covered the distance to the center of the dome in a few short strides. He stood in the center and waited. Nothing happened. He looked around for a control or a console. He noticed a circular object that had just emerged from the floor. With three small red lights, the object resembled the energy nuclei he had seen throughout the ship and on the generators.

Damian approached the device and touched its top and it began to sink into the ground. He felt a slight vibration under his feet and saw that the teleporter had just been activated. He was about to return to the center when he noticed a second energy core coming out of the ground. He jumped towards it and pushed it into the dome.

Damian jumped from core to core. Realizing that nothing was moving except the teleporter which continued to vibrate, he moved to the center of the machine. He felt himself floating, just as when the aliens had brought him from Earth. He looked up and saw the ceiling open before a large white flash blinded him.

When he opened his eyes, Damian was standing in a teleporter inside another airlock. After taking a look around him, he activated the control console. He heard an alarm and the same whistling sounds as before.

The alarm stopped. Damian left the airlock and entered a small room with a teleporter. He waited a few seconds and took off his helmet. He put it at his feet and activated the teleporter. An orange light illuminated the room, indicating that the device was being activated. Damian began to remove the spacesuit.

A shape appeared in the teleporter and one of the alien combat drones came out of the teleporter. Damian was startled and tripped over his helmet and fell backwards. Just afterwards, Somah materialized with a huge smile on her face.

"What? You've never seen an alien robot before? You should see your face!"

Damian sighed and put his hand over his face.

"I told you he was going to hate it," said Paulson's voice, who had also just appeared.

"What is this thing and how is it with you? Damian asked.

Somah helped him get up and explained.

"The aliens control them with these things," she said waving an unusually shaped remote control.

As if to illustrate her point, she pressed a button and the drone went into standby mode.

"I couldn't resist the idea of showing you this little marvel. You'd see all the things these aliens build or store. The Brotherhood of Steel would kill to see even a tiny fraction of the alien technology."

Damian grumbled and took a suspicious look at the drone. The rest of the group arrived by the teleporter. Sally looked around with a broad smile and walked towards the door, arguing that she would unlock it in no time.

Damian retrieved his amor and weapons and equipped himself. He finished adjusting the strap on his assault rifle when Sally unlocked the door. The small group crossed the hallway into a large control room. In the center, a porthole in the floor greeted them with an almost top down view of the Earth.

"It's really beautiful," Sally whispered.

The view was indeed impressive, magnificent. They stayed several seconds, in admiration before the breathtaking view of their planet. Even Toshiro seemed stunned by the view.

From here, the Earth seemed such a peaceful place. Who could imagine that thousands of kilometers beneath their feet, everything was a radioactive desert, filled with ruins and death? Large layers of clouds covered parts of the planet, but it was possible to clearly distinguish the American continent, Europe and the ocean that separated them, and Damian sadly noticed that the whole planet had this brown and beige hue. More than seven billion people lived on Earth before the Great War, and now, Damian was wondering how many in total were roaming this desolated planet, struggling to survive.

"I can see my house from here," Beckett chuckled.

"Beckett, shut up," Daniels spat. "Do you think it's time for jokes?"

"Excuse me, Sarge."

"So, they really blew everything up down there?" Elliott asked.

He raised his head to Somah and Damian who nodded back.

"That's crazy."

"Yeah, well, now's not the time to be stunned," said Paulson.

Everyone nodded and Sally walked to the door to open it. At the same time, an orange light appeared in the center of the room. The head of an alien appeared in front of them. Everyone was startled and Toshiro drew his sword and charged. He went through the alien's head which sizzled.

"What the hell is that thing again?" Paulson asked.

"A holographic projection," Damian replied.

Paulson raised an eyebrow before shifting his attention to the alien that had just appeared. Toshiro spoke at the alien's face and attacked again, with the same result. After a quick glance at his companion, the samurai finally calmed down.

The alien was speaking to them in his incomprehensible dialect, but from the speed of its speech and its expression, it seemed particularly angry. He finished speaking and a deafening noise echoed throughout the ship. Damian lowered his eyes to the window and saw a great blue ray passing in front of the glass and disappearing into the emptiness of space. The beam projected a bright blue light into the room, illuminating and accentuating the expressions of surprise and fear on Damian's and the others' faces.

The ray disappeared as quickly as it had materialized and silence fell again.

"Damn it," Daniels whispered, his eyes still fixed on the spot where the ray had passed.

"What do you think it was?" Elliott asked.

"It's obvious. They're giving us sound and light to try to mess with us," Somah answered.

"So, they're starting to get scared," said Damian, who saw where the young woman was going with it.

"Exactly, but it also means we have a big death ray to destroy before they blow up the whole fucking planet."

"Wait, what do you mean?" asked Paulson.

"I don't know about you, but my goal is to get back to Earth, and I don't intend to get blown up by a giant death star. So, we need to destroy it," answered Somah.

Everyone looked down and looked at the Earth for a few more seconds. They heard Sally unlock the door and kept moving. Damian was thinking about how they could destroy a giant laser cannon that could turn an entire planet to ashes. Elliot and his companions, on the other hand, were glad they didn't have to face such a terrifying weapon in the Battle of Anchorage.

They finally arrived in front of another transporter. Sally activated the switch. The machine made no sound. The little girl tried again, but nothing happened.

"Oh no, they turned that one off too."

"Enough with the teleporter," Somah said. "We'll go there the old-fashioned way."

The group walked through a door with a hologram of what must have been a gun firing little white marbles.

Damian and the others walked the ship's corridors, passing through storage and rest rooms, judging by the tables and chairs. Their progress was made very easy thanks to the drone that Somah controlled. The aliens they encountered were quickly eleminated by the robot's large cannon. Only those equipped with this energy shield that completely enveloped them gave them a hard time.

After a few minutes, they arrived in a large room with several bay windows.

"What is this place?" Beckett asked.

They all turned to Sally.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" asked the little girl. "I've never been in this part of the ship before."

Damian noticed several control consoles facing the windows. Above them, the same hologram imitating a gun was slowly turning. On the other side of the glass he saw a small room with a teleporter and two spheres connected to the walls by cables. Damian activated the console and heard the teleporter light up.

A brahmin materialized in the room.

"So that's what a cow looks like in your world?" Paulson asked.

"It looks twice as dumb," smiled Beckett.

The murderous glare his Sergeant gave him was enough for him to stop joking.

From one of the spheres, Damian saw an alien robot drone come out. The machine waved its claws at the brahmin, who mooed in distress and searched for a way out. The drone pierced her with its claws several times, splashing blood on the walls and glass.

Damian painfully swallowed his saliva. Inside, he hoped that the aliens would only test their weapons and robots on cows and not on the humans they had abducted.

"Hey, check this out!"

Damian, Beckett and Paulson turned around. The rest of the group had inspected the room and was standing in front of a large table set against a wall. On the table, the aliens had stored weapons and human clothing.

"I think we can help ourselves," Somah said, grabbing a magazine for her shotgun.

Damian retrieved three fragmentation grenades and some ammunition for his assault rifle and let Elliott and his companions divide up the rest. Each one silently rearmed himself and poured what they couldn't put in their pockets into saddlebags that they found around the table.

Upon closer inspection, Damian realized that the place where they were, was to be used as a test lab for weapons recovered by the aliens.

The small group of survivors continued to move through the lab, passing other test rooms. They didn't encounter any more aliens as they made their way through the lab.

"Where do you think they are?" Sally asked.

"Probably waiting for us somewhere," Paulson spat.

They walked a few more minutes to a door. It was surmounted by a hologram that reminded Damian of the stasis chambers in the cryogenic lab. They opened the door and entered a room identical to the weapons lab.

The small group of aliens in the room didn't give them any trouble thanks to the drone. Damian heard Sally scream. He turned to her. The little girl was standing in the center of the room, facing a table. Damian approached and saw with horror that on the table, the aliens had placed a human corpse, or at least, a mass of flesh, bone and muscle, vaguely identifiable as human.

Sally hid her face and took refuge in Damian's arms. The faces of the various members of the group became pale as they became aware of what was before their eyes.

Damian went from horror to horror. The adjacent rooms were used as examination and test rooms for human subjects.

Somah stayed slightly back with Sally. Inside, in one of the rooms, Damian discovered the dissected remains of a woman, still lying on a sort of torture chair. Long metal tentacles ending in pincers, needles and even saws were hinged around the chair.

Damian remembered the few flashes he had had when the aliens had performed various tests on him. He felt a slight tingling in his stomach and all over his skull. Behind him, he heard Beckett running out of another room and vomit. The latter must have made an even more gruesome discovery than he had.

Although he had become accustomed to seeing corpses, mutilated and dismembered bodies in the Wasteland, to see that he could have been chopped to pieces by an alien who wanted to know more about human anatomy made him nauseous. He shivered and left the room.

The next room contained a large generator. A bay window revealed a block of cells. Several aliens were working near the opaque energy barriers while others stood guard and seemed to be setting up defenses.

"The only way we can keep going is through there," Damian whispered, observing the aliens on the other side of the glass.

"I think it's going to be complicated," said Daniels. "The door to the cells is blocked by this weird barrier and the bastards are entrenching themselves."

"Yeah, but we don't have a choice."

The group retreated while Somah ordered her drone to destroy the generator. The explosion shook the room. Damien heard the screams of the aliens and energy weapons fire from the other side of the glass.

"It sounds like it's turning into a riot out there," Beckett said.

The cell block was dark, the explosion probably shorted out the lights. The place was lit only by the rays of the aliens' weapons.

"Let's go lend them a hand," Somah said.

The group dashed into the corridor that linked their position to the cell block. The shooting stopped. At the end of the corridor, whose lights had gone out, Damian saw several grotesquely shaped humanoid silhouettes wandering slowly. He gave an interrogative glance at the others. They too found the vision a little strange and disturbing.

Damian turned on the lamp of his Pip-Boy and directed the beam towards the silhouettes. They were greyish in color and looked human, except that their arms were disproportionately long and ended in four long fingers. Their heads had no hair and looked more like alien skulls than human heads.

One of the creatures noticed the ray of light and turned towards Damian and his companions, revealing large black eyes and two slits as nostrils. The thing slowly raised its arm and pointed its index finger at Damian before uttering a scream. A blood-curdling scream. Damian felt a shiver run down his spine. The other creatures turned to the small group at the same time and all had the same reaction, pointing and screaming at them.

With their arms still outstretched, the abominations began to run towards Damian and the others in a grotesque gait. The next moment, the roar of Elliot and Beckett's assault rifles echoed through the hallway. Damian imitated them and emptied his magazine towards the creatures.

The front row of creatures collapsed on the metal floor, trampled and overtaken by the other empty-eyed abominations. Damian changed his magazine and fired again, not bothering to aim and just making a left and right movement with his arms so that he would shoot at all the monsters running at him.

The creatures' charge only lasted a few seconds. About a dozen of these things piled up in front of Damian and the others, some with their skulls smashed, others riddled with bullet holes or trampled on by their fellow creatures.

Damian looked over his shoulder. Everyone had the same expression of terror on their faces and everyone had to ask themselves the same question. What were these things? Another type of alien? Damian was thinking about humans captured by aliens and turned into monsters by them, although he wasn't sure and prayed that he was wrong.

They walked through the cell block where these abominations were being held and found that they had shredded their captors. Somah forced Sally to close her eyes and guided her through the dismembered corpses and shattered skulls that were scattered all over the floor. Even Toshiro, usually so imperturbable and impassive, seemed uncomfortable.

The small group continued to advance through the ship, sometimes through long corridors, sometimes through large halls whose purpose escaped them. Damian remained silent, walking side-by-side with Paulson and Elliot, with his ear to the ground. They came across the remains of some of the aliens and some of the abominations that they eliminated before they could utter their dreadful roar.

"By the way," said Elliot in a low voice. "Does anyone have any idea how to destroy that death ray?"

Faced with no answer, he turned his attention to the corridor that lay ahead of them. Damian had given the question some thought, but he was more focused on not crossing the path of one of the other abominations and had decided that he would give it some thought when the time came.

After borrowing a transporter, they entered a large room. In the center, a huge core of energy, sinking into the floor and ceiling, slowly turned on itself, protected by a glass pane.

"Is this the thing that controls this death ray?" Paulson asked.

"There's only one way to find out," Somah answered.

She cocked her rifle breech when Beckett's voice called out to her.

"Hey wait! Don't you think we should first make sure it's this thing that powers the fucking death star before we shoot it up and blow up the whole ship. Besides, it'd be a lot more useful if we could take control of it, too."

Beckett met the inquisitive eyes of his platoon leader, who eventually turned to Somah.

"Beckett's right, for once. There's nothing telling us that this energy core isn't powering something other than the death ray. And imagine if E.T. had other ships like this around, we wouldn't look so stupid if we came face to face with more of these rays and couldn't defend ourselves."

"Then what do we do?" asked Somah.

"Let's keep moving," Damian said. "If we can make sure this thing only powers the death ray, then we'll come back and destroy it."

Somah seemed unconvinced. She finally lowered her weapon with a little pout. The group left the energy core behind and continued walking to a large arched corridor. After going up and down several stairs, they went through a door and came to a large command bridge. A large porthole on the floor allowed them to observe Space and the Earth that stretched beneath their feet. Everywhere, there were control consoles, switches and lights of different colors, surrounding the power core, the same one that Damian had seen above with the others. On the other side of the porthole, connected to the energy core, the death ray was patiently waiting to be activated and hit its designated target.

From the corridor, Damian watched the control room. The others had also noticed it. There wasn't a living soul there except them.

"Do you think those horrible things killed the aliens?" Sally asked shyly.

"If they did, then where did those abominations go?" Paulson asked.

Out of the corner of his eye, Damian saw Elliott and his companions move into firing position. They may have been doctors, but the US Army had instilled some semblance of military training in them. Daniels banged his fist into the metal wall next to him. The sound produced resonated faintly in the control room. No sound was heard in return except for the quiet hum of the energy core.

"Looks like we're alone," the Sergeant said looking up at Damian and the others.

Paulson walked into the control room and Damian saw four aliens pounce on him. A trap. Paulson had just enough time to shoot the alien closest to him. A second one grabbed him by the back and raised its stun baton. Damian aimed his rifle. He took out the other two aliens who were rushing towards them. Damian aimed his gun at Daniels. He and the alien were to close, and Damian didn't dare fire for fear of hitting the cowboy.

Damian saw a black and silver lightning bolt go by him. By the time he understood, the alien had let go of Paulson and was slowly collapsing on itself, a greenish sheaf of blood spurting from his neck.

Paulson turned around, ready to fight. The first thing he saw was the decapitated body of the alien, which was just about to fall to the ground. The second thing he saw was Toshiro slowly shedding his sword.

Somah emitted a whistle of admiration and stepped forward.

"Well, talk about sword skill."

The group entered the control room after making sure that all threats were gone, and Paulson mumbled a _"thank you"_ to Toshiro.

Everyone went around the control room. To the left of the entrance was a switched-off teleporter and to the right was a small room, also equipped with a teleporter. The room was closed by a force field and Damian noticed a hologram of a cylinder opening and closing like a box.

He looked towards the death ray. He started imagining himself at the controls of this devastating weapon. Unlimited power in the palm of his hands. At that very moment, he regretted not knowing the exact location of the Enclave. Just a few meters away from him, the means to wipe this band of murderers from the face of the Earth. Everything could be over in a matter of seconds, he just had to direct the laser to the right place and fire. No more Colonel Autumn, no more President Eden blathering his political speeches. Just a giant smoking crater.

Damian then remembered the power of the laser when the aliens tried to scare them. He had felt in his flesh the deployment of energy. This weapon would allow him to destroy the Enclave, he was convinced of it, but he didn't know if its power wouldn't go with it to destroy what was left of the Earth. He thought of Amata, safe in Vault 101, under several dozen meters of earth and concrete, protected from the surface and the horrors of the Capital Wasteland. The alien technology was uncommonly powerful, overwhelming. The Vault had withstood atomic bombs and two centuries hidden under the rock, but it would not survive a strike from the monster of energy that was the death ray. Even if the planet did not explode, a strike from the ray would probably be worse than the hundreds of nuclear warheads that fell 200 years ago.

"The power of Death in the palm of your hand. A destroyer of worlds."

"Is there a problem, Mr. Damian?"

Damian was pulled from his reverie by Sally's voice. The little girl stood next to him and gave him a worried look.

"You've been staring and mumbling at the alien cannon for two minutes. Is there a problem?"

"No... No, it's all right, I was just thinking."

Damian turned around and walked to the control console with Sally. Small holograms flashed on the main console, representing the death ray being fired or rotated.

"Hey look, this one, it looks like it's activating a generator."

Sally pointed to a lever topped with a small hologram similar to the ones Damian had seen before when he had to destroy the ship's generators. As he looked around, he noticed that the corners of the control room were occupied by generators.

"If we blow it up, it should disable the laser or at least reduce its power," Somah said.

Damian approached his hand. Just before operating the lever, he glanced at the death ray. The death ray was pointing towards the emptiness of Space. Even if he inadvertently activated the weapon, it would not reduce the Earth to a multitude of small rock fragments.

A hissing sound was heard in the control room and one by one, the cooling system of each generator appeared. At the same time, Damian heard Toshiro's voice. He turned around and saw that the samurai had drawn his sword and was facing the teleporter in the control room. A bright orange light flashed from the machine and an alien carrying a laser gun materialized in front of them. He squealed when he saw the humans in front of him and was struck across the body by the samurai's sword.

"Let's blow up those generators and get out of here!"

Elliott and Beckett took care of the generator next to them. Daniels and Paulson walked to one of those at the back of the room. Damian ordered Sally to hide. He heard several blasts. Somah had just destroyed one of the generators and was now assisting Toshiro.

"Come on, faster," Damian said as he watched the cooling system of the last generator slowly rising.

From the corner of his eye, he could see the teleporter activating at regular intervals. Small groups of aliens were coming out of it. Humans had the advantage, firing as soon as the shapes of the small aliens began to appear. In the midst of the gunshots and exploding generators, Damian could hear the unpleasant sounds of bodies exploding due to the lead and bullet discharges, or because the materialization process could not be carried out properly due to the 5.56 or 12-gauge projectiles flying around, and the sound of a sharp blade cutting into the flesh. Toshiro's sword pierced and cut the aliens as if they were paper.

Damian destroyed the last generator. A second after the explosion, the teleporter the aliens came through deactivated. The energy core of the death ray blinked before it stopped. Damian doubted the weapon would be destroyed, but for now, it would have to do. He took turns looking at his fellow misfortunates companions and was relieved to see that they were unharmed.

"How many of them are on that ship?" Paulson raged as he wiped his greenish-blooded face with the back of his sleeve.

"I don't know, but now that we've destroyed their precious death ray, all we have to do is seize the rest of the ship."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Elliot asked.

"I think it's the only way out of this," Daniels answered.

After picking up Sally, who had taken shelter in the corridor leaving the control room, they headed for the second teleporter. As Damian arrived at the front, he thought about how easy it was for the others to eliminate the aliens coming out of there.

"So, are we going or what?" Paulson said impatient.

Damian stepped onto the platform and prepared his assault rifle. He activated the teleporter. An orange light surrounded him, and a large white flash blinded him. A few seconds later, the white flash faded away and his body materialized. When the process was complete, he felt the ground beneath his feet again and rolled to his side. He pointed his rifle in front of him. Nothing. The room he was in was empty. He let out a sigh of relief. He turned around and smiled.

The teleporter was disabled. Damian's smile faded. He activated the machine, which remained inert. The aliens had shut down the teleporter, separating him from the others. Damian stiffened. He felt the hair on the back of his neck bristling and a shiver run down his spine. He slowly turned around and faced the two doors that led in and out of the transporter room. A little further down the corridor as it went into the ship, he had just heard a terrifying scream.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed. I always found a little dumb that you get to do everything in some quest, and that your allies basically say :"go do this while I sit here and do nothing". Reminds me of that MW2 meme "Ramirez protect the Burger Town".**

**As the ending of this chapter, I know it's a huge cliché, but I thought it was fun, and even if the abomination's screams were unpleasant to heat, I always thought it would have been scarier if it was the same scream as in the movie The Thing (the one from 1982, not the strange prequel/remake/reboot/whatever they made after)**


	32. Chapter 32: Star dust

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well. Well, that's it, almost everything is closed in France due to coronavirus. Guess full quarantine is coming soon and that I'll have plenty of time to publish this story for you guys (unless the world goes ape shit and we get a "The Last of Us" scenario).**

**Anyway, today we finish the Mothership Zeta arc. Please enjoy.**

* * *

Damian's blood froze in his veins. The scream he had just heard belonged to one of those alien abominations, he was sure of it. No human being could utter such a scream. The long, terrifying scream ceased and gave way to a series of laser discharges and squeaks.

Damian painfully swallowed his saliva and walked down the hallway with his weapon pointed in front of him. The corridor made a right turn and then widened a bit. Four pillars occupied the small space. A laser turret was attached to the wall and was pointed at Damian. The young man placed the turret in his sight and fired. The turret came loose on the ceiling and fell heavily to the floor.

Damian stepped forward. Next to the destroyed turret, he noticed a strange object. The object was a small glass bubble on four metal feet, surrounded and traversed by metal sticks and an electric wire. The glass bubble had shattered, and sparks were coming out of the strange object.

Behind one of the pillars, Damian noticed the lifeless body of one of those screaming abominations. Next to it, the torn remains of two aliens. The abomination had probably killed the two aliens before it got eliminated by the turret.

Damian walked around the strange object on the floor and the pieces of flesh to climb a small staircase. No sooner had he reached the top, than he felt the heat of a laser beam pass close to his neck. He stumbled and rolled down the stairs, landing headfirst into the alien corpses.

Damian stood up and spat out the greenish blood in his mouth and put his hand on his neck. He felt a small burn mark but no blood. He hissed between his teeth and walked up the stairs stopping just before the end.

The next room, resembling an atrium surrounded by a balcony, was occupied by three aliens hiding behind energy shields. Judging that it was useless to waste his ammunition on it, Damian rummaged through his bag. He grabbed two fragmentation grenades from his bag. Damian pulled the pin out of the first one and threw it into the atrium. The explosive bounced off the shield and fell to the floor below. The detonation did not damage the shield, but one of the aliens was hit by a piece of metal and collapsed to the ground with a squeaking sound. Damian took the opportunity to rush inside the room.

He hid behind a pillar, probably decorative, and pulled the pin out of the second grenade. He threw it over the shield. The explosion destroyed the shield generator in a big green flash, vaporizing part of the last two aliens.

With his ears ringing slightly, Damian left his cover and inspected the other pieces, his rifle ready to fire. He was in what looked to be the crew quarters of the alien ship. Most of the atrium doors opened into a small empty room, or only furnished with a transparent cylinder, vaguely resembling a bed. A more than spartan room, even compared to the Brotherhood dormitories at the Citadel.

Damian took a new staircase and left the atrium. The corridor he entered went both to the right and the left. Damian walked to the left and after passing through a small meeting room, came across two aliens hidden behind an energy shield. The shield was facing down the corridor. After he got rid of the two aliens, Damian approached.

Apparently, the aliens were trying to stop something from getting through. Deciding the thing on the other side was good where it was, Damian turned back. The corridor was sloping to the right and had three decorative pillars. An alien stood guard. When it saw Damian, it squealed and took cover behind one of the pillars. Damian heard a door open and close in front of him. The alien burst out from behind the pillar and opened fire. Damian leaned against the wall and avoided the energy discharge that hit at the end of the corridor.

The young man responded with a burst and hit the alien in the chest. A second alien appeared and overtook its fatally wounded companion, rushing at Damian while firing its gun. Damian flattened further into the wall. The alien came up to him and stood in front of him, ready to fire. Damian smashed the butt of his rifle into its jaw. The alien fell and hit one of the pillars. A second later, its skull exploded when Damian fired a burst in the alien's head.

Damian reloaded his weapon and resumed his advance. On his left was a door leading to a small room with chairs and tables. On the right, the corridor went into the ship but was blocked by a force field and a laser turret was watching the area. Damian quickly crossed the corridor to enter the small room. There, three turrets welcomed him with a deluge of laser discharges. One of the rays tore Damian's fatigue at his thigh and he felt pain where the ray had struck. He leaned against the entrance and let himself slide to the ground. The turrets stopped firing. Damian looked down at his leg. There was a wound, as big as his thumb but it was not bleeding. The main advantage of laser wounds. When touched, the wound cauterized instantly because of the heat of the beam. That was if the beam only scratched its target. Damian heard footsteps in the room. He recognized the sound of the aliens' boots sliding on the metal.

He prepared his rifle and when the first alien appeared, he fired. The alien collapsed next to him, spilling a greenish, foul-smelling stream of blood. Damian put one of his hands into his bag and pulled out a grenade. He pulled the pin out and threw it into the room. The blast shook the walls and he curled up on himself to avoid the shrapnel flying in all directions.

Two of the three turrets were destroyed. Damian destroyed the last one with a well-placed shot. Two more alien bodies were laying on the ground or on the tables. Damian got up and walked across the room. His leg was painful, but he could still walk.

He listened for a moment, and when he was convinced that no aliens were coming, he reached into his belt pouches and grabbed the small bottle of blue gel that Sally had given him. Damian poured the contents over the wound on his leg. Immediately, he felt a gentle warmth and the pain disappeared.

Damian threw the bottle away and with got up before firing at the turret that watched the corridor.

Damian continued to walk down the hallway, which seemed endless to him, either because it really was, or because his limping gait slowed him down a bit. He reached a section of the corridor that was a little wider, guarded by two turrets and occupied by computers. Damian destroyed the turrets one after the other and went on his way. He was intrigued that he wouldn't encounter any more aliens. If the latter had to fight on one side Damian and on the other Somah, Elliott, Paulson and the others, while managing their experiments which wandered in the ship, it was normal that he met few of them.

The young man thought of his companions. He hoped inwardly that they were all alive and had not found themselves separated from each other.

The hallway led to a maintenance room, where thin streams of steam escaped from pipes at regular intervals, emitting an annoying hiss. Damian first checked that there was no turret and entered. Two small stairs led up to the upper floor. Damian walked to the one on the right when he heard a rattle just above him. He looked up and saw one of these alien abominations bent over him on a railing.

The thing was even uglier and more terrifying when seen up close. With its arm and index finger outstretched towards Damian, it screamed at him, staring at him with its pitch-black eyes. Damian felt his entire body trembling. He felt as if the thing would probe his mind and that he would lose his mind if he looked at it for too long.

Damian raised his rifle and pulled the trigger. The roar of his assault rifle covered the scream of the creature as it swung backwards, hit in the face and chest. A second creature appeared behind the first. It ran down the stairs, its long arms swinging grotesquely along its body. Damian swung a little too late and the creature grabbed his shoulder.

A superhuman force lifted him off the ground, and Damian was thrown into the hallway. The creature raised its arm and index finger and screamed back. When he saw the monster rush at him, Damian drew his pistol and put two bullets into the thing's chest. The screaming stopped and the creature fell face down to the ground. Damian got up, massaging its shoulder and picked up its assault rifle.

He heard footsteps above him and raised his rifle. The bald skull of another of these abominations appeared and was immediately hit by a burst of 5.56.

Damian climbed the steps. The floor was occupied by strange columns emitting lightning at regular intervals. Behind Damian, a small footbridge led to yet another corridor. Damian saw a humanoid form emerge from it. He aimed and fired. The bullet lodged itself in the alien's chest, not leaving it the time to push its terrifying howl.

Damian felt his heart return to a normal rhythm and couldn't help but shiver. He shook his arms and head in a nervous spasm. For good measure, Damian fired three more bullets into the bodies of the abominations. Even dead, these things made him uncomfortable and scared him.

Feral ghouls were despicable creatures and Damian had more than once felt fear when he walked through the metro tunnels of D.C.. As such, these things created by aliens were no uglier than a ghoul, whether it was a feral or not. But it was that scream, that beastly call that would tear the vocal cords of anyone who tried to imitate it that was really scary, and Damian surprised himself regretting the Super Mutant and other mutants of D.C. he was accustomed to.

Damian took care to get around the corpse of the abomination. Inside, he dreaded the next time he would have to fall asleep, knowing full well that these monsters would come and haunt his nights.

The corridor ended in a dead end with a teleporter. A little to the right, in a recess, Damian noticed a strange arch. Two rings were fixed in the ground and a faint pink light emanated from it. Damian had seen these arches all over the ship before but had never had time to really observe them in detail or to care about them.

With the barrel of his gun, Damian tapped the device. Nothing happened, except a metallic noise. He put the barrel of his gun through the middle of the arch. Again, nothing happened.

Damian wasn't sure of anything, but he clearly remembered seeing one of his strange machines in the living quarters of the aliens. He carefully put his left hand inside the it, then his whole arm to his shoulder.

A gentle warmth enveloped his arm. Damian stepped forward and crossed the device. A feeling of comfort took hold of him and went right through him. He felt his leg wound magically disappear and the pain in his shoulder after his fight with the alien abomination, disappeared instantly.

For a few seconds his peripheral vision blurred slightly before returning to normal. He felt lighter and he felt stronger. He palpated his body but found nothing abnormal.

He came out from under the arch. This feeling of strength and well-being gradually faded away. Thinking back, Damian felt as if a Stimpak had been injected into every part of his body. He smiled slightly. In the midst of their scientific madness of dissecting living humans, turning them into monsters or using them as test subjects for their weapons program, the aliens had still developed a useful technology that could instantly heal wounds.

Damian found himself wondering if this device could make limbs grow back, but he put the crazy idea out of his mind. He walked away to the teleporter. The transporter was active. Damian looked around but saw no small hologram that would tell him where he would land.

After checking his weapons, he took a deep breath and activated the transporter.

_(Capital Wasteland, one hour earlier)_

Sarah Lyons arrived in sight of Megaton at the same time as the sun was slowly breaking through the horizon and casting an orange light over the surrounding desert. Small tents had been set up near the entrance for the caravans stopping in town. Despite the early morning hour, the merchants and guards loaded or unloaded crates of goods on the backs of the still sleeping brahmins.

Amid the small crowd of merchants and guards, Sarah passed unnoticed. She kept an eye out for Enclave soldiers but was surprised to not see any.

Her journey from the Citadel had gone smoothly. It was hard to believe that the Enclave occupied the Jefferson Memorial and had set up outposts all over the Capital Wasteland and terrorized the population. The only evidence of the Enclave's presence in the region, aside from the huge force fields surrounding Project Purity, was a small camp on the other side of the Potomac. Sarah had seen two silhouettes in power armor, framing a third silhouette in grey uniform, setting up crates and small metal structures.

She had been surprised to see that the Enclave did not seem to be watching over the Citadel. Wherever it was hiding, the Enclave probably had just enough troops to guard Project Purity and set up outposts at key points in the Wasteland, or it would have already launched an assault on the Brotherhood's fortress.

Sarah was greeted by a Protectron whose voice matrix was getting tired of repeating the same welcome message and resetting it every time someone walked by its sensors. The city was slowly awakening. Residents would leave their homes, travelers would exit the saloon or dormitory and head for the gates to resume their journeys in the Wastes, and the few traders would open their shops to welcome the caravanners or the first customers of the day.

Sarah watched the few passers-by from the crater rim in search of Damian. Sarah decided to find a better vantage point. She took a small path on her left and walked along a metal hut to a large footbridge. She approached the railing and looked down on the crater. Realizing that looking for him that way would lead her nowhere, she turned back to the house behind her and knocked on the door.

After a few seconds, the door opened on a Mister Handy. The robot pointed its three ocular appendages at Sarah and seemed to scan her from head to toe.

_"Good morning, Madam. Would you like to see Master Franklin?"_

Sarah raised her eyebrows. Franklin must have been a fairly common name, but if it was Damian, then she didn't expect him to be called _"Master"_ by a robot butler at all.

"Would your _"Master"_ by any chance be a young man in his early twenties with a Pip-Boy?" Sarah asked.

_"That's right, Madam,"_ replied the robot. _"Master Franklin does own a Pip-Boy and it fits the description you give. Unfortunately, he is not at home at the moment."_

"Do you know where he went?"

_"It seems to me he went on an errand to the Craterside Supplies. Would you come in for a moment, I'm sure he will be back soon."_

"No, that's not necessary."

The Mister Handy acted like he was tipping a hat from his head and closed the door. Sarah turned towards the crater. After spotting the store that the robot had told her about, she headed there and entered.

There was a strange smell inside the shop. Sarah could hardly contain herself when she saw the mess the shop was in. The store was almost empty. Only three people were in it. A red-headed woman wearing a light blue jumpsuit was in the middle of a heated discussion with a man, probably a merchant, judging by the outfit he had, made to resist the numerous travels in the Wasteland. In the back of the store, a man in a leather suit was silently watching the scene.

Damian was not there either. Sarah found it strange not to find him here and was sure she had not seen him on her way.

The merchant left the shop, putting a bag of caps in the inside pocket of his big military jacket. The man at the back of the room watched Sarah for a few moments before he turned his attention to a point on a wall.

The woman in the jumpsuit began to rummage through a crate on the store counter and sang a little song.

Sarah approached her and cleared her throat to get her attention.

"Oh hello! Welcome to Craterside SuppliesHow can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a young man named Damian Franklin. I was told he was here."

The smile on the shopkeeper's face got even wider.

"My dear assistant? He lives in Megaton, that's right, but I haven't seen him for a few days."

"Do you know where he is?" asked Sarah urgently.

"He must be out in the field helping me in my research for my book. Right now, we're working on a chapter about landmines. He must have gone to Minefield to bring me one."

Sarah sighed and clenched her jaw. She left the store, as the owner looked at her with surprise. The trip from Megaton to Minefield and back should not have taken more than a day. If Damian had been gone for two or three days, it meant that something had happened on the way. Sarah left Megaton in a hurry and headed northeast.

Damian activated the teleporter and was transported to a small room. A window allowed him to see that he was on the command deck of the alien ship. Several aliens were working in front of control consoles, or computers. A gigantic bay window let him admire the emptiness of Space, the Earth and the stars. One of the aliens was wearing a different outfit, all black, and seemed to be giving orders to the others. He squealed something and turned around before heading to the teleporter.

Damian flattened against the wall. The door to the teleporter room opened. The alien entered and when he saw Damian, it froze and began squealing and calling out to the other aliens. Damian crushed the butt of his rifle on the alien's face in an unpleasant creak. He grabbed the alien by the shoulder and rotated it and, after disarming him, grabbed his throat and pinned it against him. The alien was frail, and Damian felt he would have no trouble crushing its throat.

The young man left the teleporter room, holding the alien against him. Their small size didn't make them a very good shield, but Damian assumed that the others would be reluctant to shoot one of them.

Damian was right. No shots were fired. The aliens drew their weapons, but when they saw their companion taken hostage, they didn't dare to use them.

As Damian entered the bridge, the teleporter activated behind him. Damian moved to the right and out of the corner of his eye, saw a human figure materialize. He was relieved to see Somah emerge from the teleporter followed by Elliott and his comrades a few seconds later.

Seeing the situation, Somah turned to the aliens and displayed a triumphant smile.

"Looks like the game is over," she said. "Put down your weapons and let us take control of your ship, or your captain goes down."

None of the aliens moved. Somah aimed the cannon of her shotgun at the alien's skull. The alien squealed something very fast over a tone of voice that indicated panic. The other aliens threw their weapons to the ground.

Somah, Elliott and Beckett gathered them in a room behind the teleporter, probably the Captain's quarters, and tied them inside.

Damian glanced at his companions. Sally was already circling the bridge, raving about the resemblance to Captain Cosmos' ship. Somah was inspecting one of the aliens' rifles while Paulson lit a cigarette.

"Where is Toshiro? Damian asked.

Elliott looked down.

"We don't know," he said sadly. "We were separated when we took a teleporter."

Damian was going to speak when a slight whistle sounded behind him. Right in front of the commander's seat, the giant head of an alien had just appeared. The orange hologram squealed and whistled, looking visibly enraged.

The hologram disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared, and Damian felt the bridge shake.

"Look!"

All heads turned to Sally who was glued to the window. A gigantic circular mass slid down from the top of the ship. Damian recognized a death ray, attached to the shape passing in front of them. The tremors intensified when a great white light illuminated the bridge.

A second alien ship had just come out of nowhere and was slowly moving through Space.

"Damn it," Somah hissed.

"What do we do?" Beckett asked nervously.

In response, the second alien ship turned slowly, its laser cannon aimed at them. The weapon fired. The beam hit the ship head-on. The bridge shook. Damian lost his balance and grabbed the Captain's chair to not fall.

"We have to fight back!" Paulson shouted.

"And how?" Elliott asked. "This thing is going to blow us to pieces! We can't repel firepower of that magnitude!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Damian saw Sally approach a control console and activate a button. A rumble echoed through the ship and the death ray activated. The beam of energy passed within meters of the enemy ship.

"You know how to use that thing?" Somah said.

"Of course, it's just like Captain Cosmos' ship."

"It's crazy," Elliott kept saying.

The enemy ship was just finishing up firing positions. Damian turned to Sally.

"Okay Sally, how do we do this?" he asked in a hurry.

"We have to activate these buttons for the engines and these for the death ray. Somah stand here. Mr. Elliott, take care of the shields here."

"And how do I do that?" Elliott cried out.

"Press it and you'll see!" Somah shouted.

The alien ship aimed its cannon at them. Elliott pressed several buttons at random, praying that luck was on his side. The beam hit the ship. Through the bay, Damian saw the energy wave disperse in all directions, deflected by an invisible veil that began to ripple like the surface of a puddle hit by a pebble.

"The death rays! Use it Mr. Damian!"

Damian lowered his eyes to Sally. She was pointing at a switch she was too small to reach. Damian pressed the button and a great beam of energy shot out of their ship and went to hit their opponent. Once again, the beam ricocheted on the shield.

"Damn it!" Beckett swore. "This thing isn't powerful enough!"

Damian watched the enemy ship. He noticed that their shield had just gone down. The alien laser cannon struck their ship again.

"We have to find the right time to shoot! If we activate our shield, the death ray won't be strong enough to destroy them!"

"Yeah, but if we don't activate them, we're the ones who will be destroyed!" Elliott said nervously.

Damian heard a noise behind him. The teleporter had just activated. A small group of aliens materialized on the bridge.

"Those little bastards want to board the ship," Paulson shouted.

He raised his gun and began firing, as Beckett did. A few aliens had made their way to the Captain's quarters and freed the trapped aliens. Fortunately, Beckett's assault rifle fire eliminated many them.

Damian crouched behind the Captain's chair. He could hear the laser beams passing overhead and finishing their courses in the ceiling or on the porthole, which miraculously remained intact.

In the confusion, he noticed a door opening in the back of the bridge and Toshiro coming out. The impassive air the samurai usually wore had turned into an expression of anger.

"Omae wa mou shindeiru," he said before he drew his sword screaming and charged the aliens.

The bridge shook. Damian was thrown against one of the control consoles. He caught up Sally, who was falling towards him. The lights went out, and through the porthole, he saw their shields go out.

"They must have hit the machines!" Somah cried out. "Look for a command to reactivate them!"

Elliott frantically pressed all the keys on his console and Daniels went to help him. Damian drew his assault rifle and emptied his magazine towards the aliens' boarding party remaining in the teleporter room. The lights came on again. Sally had just found the generator control.

The shield activated and engulfed the ship, just before the enemy cannon fired. Behind him, Damian heard the teleporter activate again. A much smaller group of aliens materialized.

"More of them!" shouted Paulson.

"Oh, fuck man! Game over man, game over," screamed Beckett.

"Beckett!" yelled Daniels. "I swear that I'll be the one to kill you, if you don't quit complaining now!"

The soldier frantically shook his head and fired at the aliens in the teleporter room.

"Elliott stand by to deactivate the shield!" Damian said.

"What? You're crazy, man" The soldier cried out as he turned around.

"Do as I say!"

Elliott swallowed his saliva and turned to the control console. He mumbled incomprehensible things and glanced nervously between the enemy ship and the shield switch.

Damian waited. The enemy ship recharged its cannon. When he saw the enemy shields fail, he screamed at Elliott.

"Now!"

Immediately, Elliott lowered their shields. He closed his eyes in the belief that he would soon die. At the same time, Damian activated the death ray switch. The beam of energy shot out of the ship and struck their opponent.

A flash of light illuminated Space. Damian closed his eyes and protected his face with his arm. When he opened his eyes, the alien ship had turned into a gigantic fireball. The alien ship had split in two and the huge pieces of burning metal were slowly falling towards the Earth.

Damian closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. He fell into the Captain's seat and ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

Elliott screamed with joy. Beckett began a ridiculous victory dance. Sally embraced Somah, while Paulson displayed a triumphant smile on his face. Toshiro had returned to his expression and cleaned the blood off his sword while Daniels had removed his helmet and has running his hand in his hair, a giant smile on his face.

It was finally over. Damian looked around him. He was trying to realize that he had just taken control of an alien ship and destroyed a second one.

All the fatigue he had accumulated since they began their escape from the ship was being felt. At that moment, Damian just wanted to sleep soundly for a whole week. Reality caught up with him when he realized he had no idea how long he had been on the ship. What about the situation on Earth? Had the Brotherhood finally deciphered Vault-Tec's computer? Or had the Enclave already gotten their hands on a G.E.C.K. and got Project Purity up and running?

Damian massaged his temples. He had to find a way to get back to Earth as soon as possible.

"You're even better than Captain Cosmos!"

Damian turned his head. Sally stood beside him, a big smile on her face.

"I'm not much of a superhero, you know," Damian answered. "Besides, without your help, I don't know where I'd be."

"I know," replied the little girl with a hint of malice. "I'm pretty proud of that."

Damian let out a small laugh.

"Are you going back to Earth, Captain?"

"'_Captain'_?" repeated Damian surprised.

"Well, yes. You're the Captain of this ship now. But I'm your first mate! And then Paulson can do Jangles the Moon Monkey!"

The vision of the cowboy dressed as a monkey in an astronaut's outfit seemed strangely hilarious for Damian.

"Alright," he said. "While I'm away, you're in charge, but I want you to take advice from others too."

"Great!"

Sally ran away and disappeared through the door where Toshiro had mysteriously appeared earlier. Damian got up and began inspecting the various consoles on the bridge. Between Beckett, Daniels and Paulson who had come to thank him, he looked for a button that could activate a teleporter to Earth.

"I still can't believe we got away with it!"

Elliott had just appeared next to Damian.

"Thank you very much," the soldier continued. "Without you, I'd still be trapped in that cryo-sleep. Or worse!"

"What are you gonna do now?"

"I think we're gonna stay here. There's nothing left for us on Earth. The same goes for Paulson and the samurai. Sally's probably gonna want to explore the rest of the ship and Somah's probably gonna go back to Earth just like you."

"If I can find a way back down," sighed Damian.

"I thought you knew about this."

Damian stared at Elliott with a raised eyebrow.

"During the battle, someone must have pushed a button and if I understand what the consoles indicate, I think, I mean I think, that some sort of guidance beacon was launched and landed just outside of Washington D.C."

"And this beacon will take me down to Earth?" Damian asked.

"Well... I'm not sure. You should try using the transporter in the Captain's quarters, well, your quarters now."

Damian turned to the teleporter. He didn't know if he was going to be sent to Earth, disintegrate or just land in another section of the ship, but it was the only way to get home.

"Wish me luck," he said to Elliott, shaking his hand.

"We'll look after the ship while you're gone."

Damian entered the Captain's quarters, which was occupied solely by a teleporter and one of those pods that serve as a bed. He heard Somah coming behind him.

"They say we can go back down to the Wasteland with that thing?" said the woman.

"Looks like it."

"I'm going to let you go ahead, just to make sure you don't get disintegrated and it's safe."

Damian smiled a forced smile. A small ball formed in his belly as he stood in the center of the transporter. He took one last look at the bridge. Just before activating the teleporter, he smiled at Sally as she began to take control of the ship and settled into the Captain's chair.

The orange light from the machine enveloped Damian and he felt his body dematerialize.

* * *

**That's it, Mothership Zeta is at an end and next time, Damian will resume his search for a G.E.C.K. Hope the references to sci-fi I made did not make this story part awful to read and that you liked it. I did like that DLC when I played it the first time. Breaking out of the space ship was nice, and the gear was nice. Just bothered about how a group of 5 humans will get an entire alien ship to work. Only thing I hated about this DLC? The damn alien in their space shield. Don't know if it was because of mods I installed or that they are a bitch to kill in vanilla, but I almost always had to use console command to get rid of them.**

**Hope you enjoyed and until next time.**


	33. Chapter 33: A boy and his dog

**Hello everyone, hope quarantine is going good for you. Yes you guessed it, in this chapter, Damian will meet one of Fallout's most trusted (and loved i think) companion.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

Sarah had just arrived in Minefield. She had settled on a small rocky mound and was watching the town from a distance. As its reputation suggested, Minefield looked like a ghost town. With the scope she had mounted on her laser rifle, Sarah scanned the area. She saw no sign of Damian, but she was sure that someone had been here.

There were some fairly recent signs of fighting in the town and most importantly, there was this small group of crows circling slowly over the town. Someone or something had just died shortly before she arrived.

Behind the town, on a hill, Sarah could see the top of three factory chimneys. Her gaze turned to the West. There were reports from the Brotherhood that pockets of Super Mutants were in the area West of Minefield. As well, the town was not that far from Paradise Falls.

She decided to bypass the dead town and reach the mill and find a way to climb to the top of one of the chimneys. From there, she would have a great view of the Capital Wasteland and with the powerful heat vision scope of her laser gun, she could more easily spot Damian, if he was still alive. Sarah jumped off her position and began her ascent to the factory.

After several minutes, she reached the fence around the factory. Sarah looked around and prepared to enter. She adjusted her laser gun and removed the long-range scope to install an infrared sight. Just before she entered, she looked up to the sky. A faint ray of sunlight pierced the clouds to the North and ended up in the hills beyond. Sarah looked more closely at the beam of light. She turned around and looked at the sky. It was not yet noon and the sun were behind her.

She turned her head towards the beam of light coming down from the clouds. It was not a natural light. For a second, Sarah thought she saw the ray widen and then return to its normal size. Intrigued, the Sentinel walked towards the ray of light that was slowly disappearing.

_(Alien UFO crash site, same time)_

Damian was back on Earth. He looked around. Brown hills, dead trees, big grey rocks, destroyed farms and small towns in ruins on the horizon. No doubt about it, he was back. The beacon dropped by the alien ship during the battle was a big grey cylinder stuck in the ground, as big as he was, with a circle of white light flashing rapidly.

Looking around, Damian noticed that it was in the center of a small crater. At the rim was the corpse of an alien. The beacon had landed at the exact spot where the alien scout ship had crashed and where Damian had been abducted.

Damian felt something against his foot. He looked down and saw a metal object that looked like a gun. The weapon was incredibly light and emitted small blue lights. As Damian put the gun in his bag, he heard a small burst of energy in his back. Somah in turn materialized in the crater.

She looked around her and grimaced.

"Damn, I thought all that filthy brown and gray sky would be more welcoming than the ship."

She looked at Damian.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Well, I've got a lot of important things to take care of here," Damian answered, his mind already turned to his quest for a G.E.C.K.

"I see. Well, if you don't mind. I think I'll probably go back to the ship."

Damian raised his eyebrows.

"No one's waiting for me in the Wasteland and with this war between the Brotherhood and the Super Mutants that goes on forever in the ruins of D.C. and those assholes of the Enclave coming to wipe out anyone who thinks differently than them, I guess the alien ship isn't so bad after all. Besides, poor Elliott's probably going to be transformed into that Jangle monkey by Sally. It'd be criminal to let him get taken advantage of by that little girl."

Damian chuckled. His gaze fell on the beacon that kept shining brightly.

"That beacon should be hidden. It's better that no one finds out what happened to us and stumbles upon it by accident."

"The last thing we need is a bunch of curious people coming to visit your ship," Somah agreed.

Somah approached the beacon. After inspecting it for a few seconds, she found a control box and discovered a small interface with a holographic button. She pressed one and a beam of light enveloped her with the beacon.

"Oh, I almost forgot!"

Somah quickly went through her pockets and threw a small object to Damian who grabbed it.

"What is it?"

It was a small box as big as his Pip-Boy with several buttons and extraterrestrial initials written on it.

"I found this in the ship when we got separated. Sally told me it was a remote control to call a transporter beacon. So, if you wanna come over, just ring the bell and we'll open the door."

The light from the teleporter was getting brighter. Somah took one last look around her.

"Good luck in the Wastes," she said as she began to dematerialize. "We'll try to keep an eye on you, and if you feel like a change of scenery, let us know."

The beam of light vanished, taking the beacon and Somah to the alien ship with it. Damian stowed the little remote control in his bag. He stumbled over something and looked down at the alien's corpse, still lying next to the crater formed by the flying saucer.

He grabbed it by the arms and pulled it away. He covered it as best he could, with dirt, debris and trash lying around. As Damian walked away from the crater, he noticed small fluorescent blue objects on the ground. He picked one up. The object reminded him of the energy cells that the aliens used for their weapons. He gathered as many as he could and put them in his bag.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Damian flipped towards the authoritative female voice that had just spoken. On top of a small rocky mound overlooking the crater, Sarah Lyons gave him a look of anger and relief. She put her laser rifle over her shoulder and joined Damian.

"It's been two days since anyone has heard from you! What are you doing in the middle of nowhere?"

Damian opened his mouth and closed it immediately. At first surprised to see Sarah in the middle of the Wastes, and especially without her imposing assisted armor, he hesitated to talk about what had just happened to him and thought quickly about an answer.

"Hey! Earth calling for Franklin!

Sarah snapped her fingers in front of Damian's face.

"Did you see that beam of light in the sky? What have you been doing for the past two days?"

"Uh... This... This is... I..."

"No, actually, you know what, I don't want to know. My orders are to take you back to the Citadel immediately. I'll explain on the way."

_(A few minutes later)_

"Is that right? Were you able to decrypt the computer?"

Sarah motioned to Damian to contain her enthusiasm.

"So, you know where to find a G.E.C.K. and where the Vault is?"

"We know a G.E.C.K. was supposed to be delivered to Vault 87, but we don't know yet if it was delivered or where that Vault is. Rothchild is still trying to gather intel from the terminal but if it fails, the Pride will be sent to Vault-Tec HQ in Vernon Square."

"Well, I guess that waiting a day more won't change much things," Damian sighed.

"I know you really want to find that G.E.C.K. but going to Vernon should be in last resort. After what you told us from the place, going in is suicide and I'm glad you did not go back there on your own."

Damian shrugged. The idea had gone through his mind, but he also felt that it was suicide, as he barely escaped the place last time.

Damian and Sarah had just passed Minefield. They arrived near an old scrapyard.

The scrapyard itself was of no interest. A simple pile of scrap metal and sheet metal, a mixture of wrecked cars, metro and train cars, surrounded by a fence and a concrete enclosure. The place had probably been looted many times by scavengers looking for spare parts to sell at Rivet City.

Sarah watched the north entrance, bounded by two metro cars, with the scope of her laser gun.

"A problem?" Damian asked.

"There was a shooting when I passed by earlier. Raiders and troops from the Enclave."

From the corner of her eye, Sarah saw Damian's face hardened.

"There was also another group, some Outcasts."

The word sounded familiar to Damian. He remembered meeting them at Bailey's Crossroad. He refrained from telling Sarah about it.

"They're former members of the Brotherhood. They decided to leave the Brotherhood shortly after we arrived in the Capital Wasteland," explained the young woman who had no idea Damian had worked with them.

The contemptuous tone used by the Sentinel made Damian realize that there was no point in continuing the conversation on this subject.

Sarah lowered her rifle and after looking at the concrete enclosure surrounding the metal cemetery for a long time, she walked towards the entrance.

"What are you doing?" Damian asked. "Shouldn't we head back to the Citadel?"

"If the Enclave and the Outcast fought here, the winner must have left the other one behind. Any information we can find out about either of them will be useful to the Brotherhood."

Damian agreed silently and followed the young woman's lead. The scrapyard was deserted. A strong smell of rust mingled in the air with another, strange, unpleasant smell, and seemed to come from the many piles of tires piled up all over the scrapyard, and the brown or black puddles of water surrounding them.

In the middle of these fumes, Damian recognized the typical smell of energy weapons and burnt flesh.

A few meters further on, human figures, all lying on the ground and wrapped in a small cloud of flies, finished cooking slowly in the sun. The bodies that could still be identified were dressed in rags and metal plates for protection, the others were nothing more than a pile of blackened bones and cloth.

A little further on, other bodies, wearing power armor. Damian approached one of them. It was wearing the black and red painted Outcast power armor. Damian counted three other bodies wearing this type of armor.

Looking around, he saw Sarah bent over the body of a soldier from the Enclave. The Sentinel was searching inside on of the power armor, probably looking for documents. Not finding anything, she approached Damian and glanced dismissively at the corpse at their feet.

"Are they the Outcast?" Damian asked, feigning ignorance.

"Yeah. Those dirty traitors got away with a whole bunch of weapons and technology that would have been useful against the Super Mutants."

"I haven't seen many bodies in the Enclave. Looks like they've managed to retreat."

"I'm going to search this one," Sarah replied kneeling. "Go see if the others have anything on them. And try to find yourself a laser rifle. By the look of it, your R91 will eventually blow up in your hands."

Damian looked down at his rifle. The weapon had deteriorated a lot since he received it from Sarah's hands when they first met next to Galaxy News. Small traces of rust were beginning to cover the barrel, the marks on the sight were gradually fading and the wooden stock was threatening to break. In addition, Damian could feel that the trigger would jam sooner or later, and he had noticed that the cartridges were not ejecting properly.

The other Outcast members did not carry any objects of interest on them. Their weapons were in even worse condition than Damian's rifle. Damian sighed at the thought of having to part with his trusty assault rifle. He didn't like energy weapons, considering them too difficult to clean or maintain in good condition. The advantage was that microfusion cells could be recharged by being connected to a power source such as a fission battery. He had learned this method from a Brotherhood Quartermaster at the Citadel who had preferred to give him advice on energy weapons rather than sell him equipment.

"Did you find anything interesting?" Sarah asked as she approached him.

Damian turned and shook his head. Sarah grimaced. Her gaze fell over the young man's shoulder. She grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him to the side.

Damian stumbled and fell to the ground. He raised his head and saw that Sarah was standing with her rifle aimed up. Every muscle in her body seemed to have tightened. Damian noticed an expression of disgust and fear on her face.

Damian turned his head. A little further on, a dog stood in front of them. A grey and black fur, a long muzzle, pointed ears, the dog stared at the two humans without showing any sign of aggression or fear.

Damian stood up, dusting his fatigues.

"It's just a dog. There's no need to get excited," he said, looking Sarah.

"Have you ever come across a dog in the Wastes?" shouted the young woman. "These filthy beasts can be as dangerous as a Radscorpions."

The dog sat down and started wagging its tail.

"Yes, I can see that," Damian smiled.

"Just because this one's not as ugly as the others and hasn't jumped us already doesn't mean he's not dangerous," Sarah grinned.

"Damian looked at the dog. Sarah was right on this point. The dog actually looked like a dog, and not these hideous animals that looked like hell hounds.

"Are you afraid of dogs? Damian asked, a slight smile on his face.

"No," replied the young woman immediately, in a tone indicating the opposite of what she was saying. "I just don't like them, that's all."

Damian turned his attention to the dog. He was still sitting staring at them. He started scratching his ear and Damian felt Sarah stiffen even more. He rolled his eyes and slowly approached the dog.

"What are you doing?" shouted the Sentinel. "This beast will eat you!"

"You've got my back, haven't you?"

Damian could hear Sarah sigh and cursing at him. He crouched down a few meters from the dog. The animal wagged its tail, and opened its mouth, revealing a pink tongue and impressive teeth. The animal had two different colored eyes. One was brown while the other was grey. A typical case of heterochromia. Damian had already heard about it in one of his father's medical books, but he had never seen a case.

He reached out his hand to the dog who stood up and went to sniff it. Behind him, Damian could hear Sarah mumbling and looking for a better shot.

"So, boy, what are you doing out here all alone? You know, I think you're the first dog I've ever met that hasn't tried to eat me right away. You're not going to eat me, right?"

As if he just figured out what Damian had just said, the dog barked.

"Franklin, get away from that animal right now!" Sarah said.

The dog sniffed Damian's hand again and licked it hard.

"You're not one of those wild hounds that roam around in this desert, aren't you?" Damian said, starting to stroke the dog on his neck.

He felt something around the animal's neck. The dog was wearing a small leather collar. A small medal was attached to it. Damian turned it around and was able to read a name engraved on it.

"'_Dogmeat'_," read Damian.

The dog's ears stood up on his head and he wagged his tail and barked happily.

"That sounds like your name," Damian smiled. "Have you lost your master? A good boy like you shouldn't be alone in there you know?"

The dog frantically licked the young man's hand.

"I think it's safe to come, Sarah. The beast has been tamed."

The Sentinel approached suspiciously, her rifle still ready. She cast a look of disgust at the dog as it was being petted by Damian.

The dog's ears rose up on his head and he turned his head towards the Wastes. He began to growl. Sarah took a few steps back and prepared to raise her rifle but stopped at the last moment. She turned her head in the same direction as the dog. The dog had felt something. Damian got up and prepared his assault rifle as well.

After a few seconds, they heard a rattle going crescendo. A black dot appeared in the sky.

"Damn it, the Enclave!" Damian cried out.

"They have to come and get the bodies of their men and the equipment of the Outcast's men. We have to take cover!"

"It's too late to leave! Quick, this way!"

Damian and Sarah rushed to a shapeless pile of metal. Damian found a small opening and rushed in, followed by Sarah.

"The dog! Come and hide!"

The animal began to bark at the Vertibird, which was getting closer and closer.

"Get out of there!" Damian yelled at the dog.

The dog finally ran away and disappeared between two cars. The roar of the Vertibird's engine and rotor blades became louder and eventually covered Damian and Sarah's breathing. The aircraft flew over the crapyard and made another pass. This time it flew over more slowly, lifting thick clouds of dust in its wake.

Through the small gaps between the metal, Damian could see the aircraft pass over them. The space where he stood with Sarah was too small and narrow to stand and it was stifling hot in their hiding place. They had to stand against each other, Sarah facing Damian, leaning slightly over him.

The Vertibird kept spinning around in the sky, a gigantic steel vulture looking for a carcass. Damien felt something against his temple. He turned his head and saw that Sarah's identification tags hung around her neck and grazed her head. Damian looked away from the young woman's cleavage right in front of him. He looked up and crossed Sarah's eyes. He didn't know if the red color on her face was caused by the heat or the uncomfortable proximity to him.

Outside, the aircraft stopped spinning and landed outside the scrapyard. The engine stopped. Damian heard Sarah counting in a low voice. Five soldiers from the Enclave had disembarked and were heading towards the center of the scrapyard.

"What's going on?" Damian whispered.

"Looks like they've come to retrieve the parts and fusion cores from the power armor and repatriate the bodies of their men."

Behind his back, Damian could hear shouts and footsteps. A bark echoed through the scrapyard.

"That damn dog again..." Sarah growled.

Damian heard the Enclave soldiers arguing over whether to shoot the dog or not, before their platoon leader could shut them up.

Damian and Sarah stayed for several minutes, looking at each other with nervous, embarrassed looks. The Vertibird took off and they stayed for another minute, listening to every noise before they went outside.

The dog was waiting for them in the middle of the scrapyard, wagging its tail merrily. The Enclave soldiers had removed some of the pieces of the Outcast's power armor and had left with their deceased comrades.

"Too bad we couldn't see which way their Vertibird had gone or came from," Damian sighed.

"Eventually we'll find their base and when we do, we'll show them that the Brotherhood should not be underestimated," smiled Sarah.

Damian nodded. They set off again and left the scrapyard. Damian looked over his shoulder and saw that the dog was following them. He stopped and looked at the animal. The dog also stopped and sat down.

"You want to come with us, boy?" Damian asked.

"Certainly not!" Sarah cried. "No way am I taking that dog back to the Citadel."

Damian didn't listen to her and leaned slightly forward and clapped his hands.

"Come on, dog, come on!"

The animal barked cheerfully and trotted towards them. They set off again, the dog walking between Sarah and Damian. The young woman walked behind Damian and stood beside him, giving the dog suspicious glances.

"Tell me, Franklin," asked Sarah after a moment. "What is it like to live in a Vault?"

Damian remained silent for a long time.

"Well, I think that's the best term to describe it, would be _'monotonous'_. You get stuck in a routine. You get up, go to work, come home, and do it all over again the next day. You don't wonder if the water you're going to drink is going to give you stomach cancer or if the caravan hasn't been attacked by Raiders. You try to get into the Overseer's good graces and to stay in it to avoid the Security to come and visit you during the night. But in some ways, it's a bit like here. You take care of our own little person first and crush the others if we can survive another day, or, in the case of the Vault, be given a bigger room or double the ration ticket.

"You don't seem to miss it too much," says Sarah, looking at the wreckage of a monorail a little further on.

"I do miss it," sighed Damian.

Sarah turned her head towards the young man and gave him a surprised look.

"Well, it's not the Vault or the life inside it that I miss, although I'll grant you that sleeping in a real bed, not hearing your Geiger counter go crazy every five minutes and not getting shot at is very nice. Let's just say that thanks to some people it became bearable, to the point where I still consider Vault 101 to be my real home, despite the fact that everyone hated me there and the Overseer was a real dictator."

"Are you thinking of going back there when all this is over?" asked Sarah.

"I hope so," said Damian looking at the sky. "My father may not be there anymore, but there is still one person in this Vault who means a lot to me."

At these words, Damian pictured himself Amata. Was she thinking about him right now? Was she healthy and safe despite her psychopathic father? Why did she give him the picture Damian had on him? Was it so that he could remember her or because she cared about him as much as he cared about her?

Sarah didn't dare ask him any more questions. She looked at Damian, noticing that he was no longer the terrified young man just out of his Vault that she had met in Chevy Chase. She smiled and turned her attention back to the Wasteland.

"We're arriving to the ruins of Bethesda. Stay alert."

"Got it."

_(Megaton, a few hours later)_

"Good luck with his research!"

Damian closed the cabin door of Moira's shop behind him. He found Sarah and Dogmeat waiting for him on the metal terrace in front of the shop. The Sentinel and the dog were staring at each other, Sarah glaring nervously at the animal who was looking at her, wagging his tail and tilting his head to the side.

"Looks like you two are finally getting along," Damian smiled enthusiastically.

Sarah glanced at him. Dogmeat barked happily and approached her wagging his tail.

"Step back fleabag," spat the young woman. "Or I'll turn you into a bedside rug."

Dogmeat moaned and gave her a sad look, ears down and head slightly bent forward. The dog then looked at Damian.

"Don't worry boy, if you're not an ugly yellow Super Mutant, you're safe."

He looked at Sarah who gave him a sly smile and look, as if she has found a way to punish him for making fun of her unease with the dog.

"Well, at least I hope," mumbled Damian a little worried.

While on the way to the Citadel, Damian had insisted on making a detour to Megaton to give Moira the mine she had asked for. When he had entered the shop, he had made sure that Moira had not placed a mine especially for him. The shopkeeper had wasted no time in chit-chat and had asked Damian to describe the procedure for disarming a mine. Although he had thought to tell her to jump on it and admire the result, he had simply repeated what Donovan had explained to him. Moira had been frantically taking notes, interrupting him regularly to observe the mine and drawing it in her notebook.

Moira had then told Damian about the rest of her research, which included studying the behavior of the Mirelurks, using a chemical product of her own invention on Molerats, and returning to her with a broken limb or a wound.

Damian had then grabbed his payment, a few caps and a mine of Moira's own making, which projected bottlecaps like shrapnel, and headed for the exit as quickly as possible, promising Moira that he would find time to help her before she decided to break an arm or leg.

He couldn't wait to get back to the Citadel to start looking for a G.E.C.K., and he suspected that Sarah also wanted to go back and put as much distance as possible between her and Dogmeat.

"Hello, Damian!"

The young man turned around and saw Lucy West coming towards him.

"It's good to see you," said the young woman. "We were beginning to wonder whether you were going to come home or not."

Lucy looked down at Dogmeat, who had taken refuge from Sarah's murderous look in Damian's legs.

"Oh, look at that cute little dog!" Lucy West said, crouching down to pet Dogmeat.

Damian heard Sarah release an exasperated sigh and saw her roll her eyes. Lucy petted Dogmeat's chin which swept the ground with its tail. She turned her head towards Sarah and gave her a distrustful look. Damian felt an electric current between the two women who were suspiciously staring at each other.

"By the way," Lucy finally said. "I wanted to thank you for helping me with my brother. I've been..."

"He's very busy right now," Sarah cut out. "Right, Franklin?"

She grabbed him by the arm and started pulling him towards the city gates. Lucy watched them walk away, biting her lip and sighing.

They made their way through the small crowd of merchants outside the town to the road that ran along the ruins of Springfield. Once there, Sarah looked at Damian for a moment. She then sighed.

"Come on, Franklin. We've wasted enough time already," she smiled slightly.

When they reached the top of the hill, near the destroyed electricity pylon, they had a bird's eye view of the Super-Duper Mart and the surrounding ruins. Every time Damian passed by, he couldn't help but recall the first time he had seen the deserted and decrepit parking lot of the supermarket, or the dried carcasses of the Mirelurks on the riverbank at Wilhem's Wharf, a roadside restaurant built in a tin shack by the Potomac.

They followed the road until they reached the river. An unpleasant smell still emanated from it.

On the right, a small parking lot, only occupied by a bus and a destroyed car, stood at the foot of a large concrete terrace. A large building with a cracked façade and many destroyed windows stood on the terrace. On the edge, a small black metal obelisk, topped by a yellow _"M"_, indicated that a metro station was nearby.

To the left, a small bridge across the Potomac River led to Anchorage Memorial Island, with its imposing statue of three American soldiers. On the base of the statue was a bronze plaque with the names of the men and women who died during the Battle of Anchorage, and Damian wondered if Elliott and his companions were on it.

Sarah stopped dead and placed the back of her hand on Damian's chest to make him stop. Right in front of them, leaning against the bus, was a man holding an assault rifle in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. With a shaved head, sunglasses on, he was wearing black combat armor over black fatigues and a grey T-shirt.

When he saw Damian and Sarah, he threw his cigarette butt away and a small grin appeared on his face. He turned to face them. On the breastplate of his armor, Damian recognized a white symbol, representing the talons of a bird of prey. He thought back to what Reilly had told him when he met her at Underworld.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the little saint of the Vault," said the mercenary of the Talon Company, putting his rifle on his shoulder.

* * *

**Initially, I planned to have Damian and Sarah have an argument, which was to start with Damian making fun of Sarah's fear of dog. I decided to delete it as I had no good idea about writting it and also because it was not really fitting Damian to make fun of someone about something they fear. So in one word, you can say that I made Sarah a cat person.**

**And as it it was not obvious enough, yes, the title is a reference to that movie/book, from the 70's 'A boy and his dog'**

**Hope you enjoyed and until next time.**


	34. Chapter 34: Follow the trail

**Hello everyone. 3 days without publishing anything. I'm a lazy ass.**

**Please enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

The Talon Company mercenary whistled between his teeth. Immediately, three other mercenaries sprang from their hiding places on the concrete terrace.

"You're pretty hard to find, kid," said the mercenary with the sunglasses. "We've been looking for you for days. I was beginning to think you'd been eaten by the Radroaches, but you were actually cooing with your girlfriend."

"What do you want from me?" Damian asked.

"You seem to know who we are, so I'll save you the boring part of the conversation. I heard you're the kind of guy to help the people in the Wastes. Well, our employer thinks it's boring, so he wants us to kill you."

From the corner of their eye, Damian and Sarah could see the other mercenaries put them in their sights. Dogmeat was growling and showing his fangs.

"On my signal, you take cover," whispered Sarah.

"No need to chit-chat, beautiful," said the leader of the mercenary. "Stay right where you are without flinching and we'll try to finish it quickly."

Sarah dove to the side, grabbing her laser gun at the same time. Damian threw himself to the ground near a concrete wall. He felt a bullet pass within inches of his head. He drew his gun and fired blindly. Behind him, he heard Sarah's laser gun crackling. A scream of terror came from the mercenary leader. Damian turned his head and saw that Dogmeat had jumped at the man's throat, closing it jaw on him. One of the gunmen on the concrete terrace turned his head towards his chief, giving Damian time to put a bullet in his skull.

Damian looked over his shoulder. The two remaining mercenaries focused their fire on Sarah, crouching on the other side of the road. He raised his gun and forced his attackers to take cover. One of the mercenaries raised his rifle at them and fired blindly.

Damian felt a pain in his thigh. He rolled to his side and felt a warm liquid run down his leg.

"I got you f..."

The mercenary didn't have time to finish his sentence when a laser beam hit him in the face. He screamed a heart-rending cry and fell backwards. The last surviving mercenary stood up while he fired at Sarah and Damian. A bark echoed behind him and the next moment Damian heard a hiccup of pain and the sound of a body falling to the ground.

Sarah crossed the road and the parking lot. She climbed the steps to the terrace and swept the area with her rifle. All their attackers were dead. Dogmeat trotted towards her, wagging his tail. His mouth was stained with blood and his fur on his neck and shoulders was all sticky.

The Sentinel went down the road again. Damian struggled to get up, grimaced and held his hand against his thigh. Seeing the blood dripping from his fatigues and between the young man's fingers, Sarah rushed towards him.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, I think the bullet ricocheted off a wall and..."

Sarah knelt and grabbed her belt around her jeans before tying it around Damian's thigh. She ripped the fatigues open. There was a small hole in Damian's thigh from which a thin trickle of blood flowed. Sarah delicately grazed the contours of the wound. She felt a small bump.

"The bullet is still in there. I can get it out," she explained as she searched her jacket pockets.

She grabbed a small first health-kit and took a out her combat knife and disinfected it and brought it close to the wound. She looked up at Damian.

"It's going to hurt a little."

She pushed the tip of the blade into the wound. Damian grimaced and choked a hiccup of pain. He looked away and tried to concentrate on the landscape, looking for a new threat. He could feel the cold metal sliding against his open skin and the unpleasant sensation of the knife and the bullet under his skin.

"Fuck..."

Damian looked down at Sarah.

"What's going on?" he asked nervously.

"The bullet's stuck to the artery. That means if I miss, you're going to bleed out on that road."

"So, don't miss."

"Maybe we should wait until we get to the Citadel and get you checked out..."

"No," Damian cut in. Walking with that piece of metal in your leg is too risky and if you carry me, you'll be an easy target. You need to get that bullet out of me now."

Sarah nodded. She plunged the blade back into the wound. After several long minutes, Sarah slowly removed the knife and grabbed the bullet with her finger and dropped it on the ground. She grabbed the buckle of the belt that serves as a tourniquet.

"Now it is the moment of truth."

She looked at Damian and started to loosen the belt. The blood was almost no longer flowing from the wound. The artery was still intact. Damian let out a sigh of relief and felt his body relax.

Sarah took the crushed bullet in her hands and looked at it from various angles.

"Do you want to keep it as a souvenir?" the young woman asked ironically. "I must have something to make a nice pendant out of it."

"If you can assure me that it will prevent me from taking another bullet in the future, I'll take it."

Damian finished bandaging his leg while Sarah went to search the corpses.

The mercenary's leader had had his throat crushed and torn out by Dogmeat. The Sentinel wanted to retrieve his weapon to give it to Damian, but it had jammed, and a shell was stuck in the ejector. A quick inspection told her that the trigger also needed to be changed and she noticed that the barrel was twisted. She found a note on a crumpled piece of paper. A man named Tenpenny had ordered the young man's death.

Sarah went back to see Damian and handed him the paper.

"Any idea why the almighty Tenpenny wants your head?" asked the Sentinel.

"None," said Damian as he read the note. "Who is this Tenpenny?"

"He's the owner of the Tenpenny Tower, southwest of here. It's said to be one of the most prosperous places in the Capital Wasteland and one of the few with non-irradiated water."

"As if the Super Mutants, ghouls and Raiders weren't enough, now I've got an army of hitmen on my trail," Damian sighed.

"Karma," Sarah smiled.

They went up to the terrace and inspected the other bodies. The body closest to them had also had its throat crushed by Dogmeat. Damian approached the mercenary hit by the laser. The beam had completely burned his face, leaving only bones and some blackened flesh tissue.

"Here, I have a present for you."

Damian looked behind him. Sarah walked towards him with a rifle in her hands. Damian got up and grabbed the gun.

It was an assault rifle, a little shorter but heavier than Damian's. The young man recognized the standard Type 93 assault rifle of the pre-war Chinese PLA. Probably a remnant from the Battle of Anchorage, brought back by a survivor.

Its last owner had attached a leather band around the grip. The wooden handguard had turned white but still looked solid. Damian adjusted the folding stock and strap.

"The weapon is chambered in 5.56mm so no need to look for another type of ammunition. You even have a bayonet with it, but I suggest a good old dagger instead," concluded Sarah.

Damian noticed a retractable steel rod under the barrel and retrieved the magazines the mercenaries were carrying before resuming their walk to the Citadel.

Once at the Citadel, Damian was escorted by Sarah and two other soldiers of the Brotherhood in power armor to the infirmary, a small room occupied by a bed and some surgical tools, and by a Mister Gutsy who was actually the Citadel's medic. After closing the wound and injecting himself a Stimpak, they went to Lyons' office.

The old Elder was sitting at his desk facing a pile of files. In the corner of the room, Damian noticed an African American woman with a military haircut and wearing power armor. On her back was a large metal mass and on her hip was a laser pistol.

The desk was decorated with a Brotherhood flag in faded colors. On the desk Damian noticed a small wooden frame, probably containing a picture of Sarah. On a wall he could see a blackboard. On the blackboard, a grid had been drawn and seemed to indicate patrol schedules or news reports.

When Lyons saw Damian enter, he put down his pen, stood up and gave him a broad smile.

"I'm glad to see that you're healthy," he said. "I thought my daughter would find you sooner, but the important thing is that you're here."

Sarah gave Damian a discreet look of reproach, telling him that they should have arrived at the Citadel sooner, if she hadn't had to chase him to Minefield or wait for him at Megaton. Lyons dismissed the two soldiers with a nod, leaving him alone with Damian, Sarah and this other woman.

There was a brief silence during which Lyons looked Damian straight in the eye.

"Sarah told me that you have decoded the Vault-Tec terminal and that you know where to find a G.E.C.K.?" Damian finally asked.

"That's right," Lyons answered, inviting Damian to take a seat in a chair facing him before sitting down in turn. "As Sentinel Lyons may have inform you, a special team should be sent to Vault-Tec headquarters to try to get our hands on a map, or a document indicating the location of Vault 87."

"And…?" asked Damian.

"Unfortunately, our scribes weren't able to get any more intel from the Vault-Tec computer. That is why I will send a salvage team to Vernon Square."

"I'm in," said immediately Damian.

"Actually, said Lyons. "They already left. Paladin Vargas and some members of the Pride left an hour ago and they should be back tomorrow morning."

Damian seemed disappointed but knowing that the elite of the Brotherhood was part of the mission made him think that the mission would be a success.

"Anyway, if I wanted you to come to the Citadel, it was to speak with you," Lyons continued. Finding a G.E.C.K. will not be an easy task, but assuming we can do it, we will need to install it and activate Project Purity. Your father had a coding system installed in the Purifier. He... Chose to activate a specific one that rendered the Purifier's control room inoperable. The only way we can regain complete control of Project Purity is to reverse the sequence your father entered using the Purifier's activation code.

"And you think I have that code," Damian concludes.

Lyons nodded slowly. Damian felt that all eyes were on him. Even Dogmeat, sitting next to him, was staring at him. He lowered his eyes and stared at the damaged edge of Lyons' desk.

"I'm sorry, I don't know it," Damian said.

"Are you sure?" Sarah asked. "Maybe your father mentioned it in a conversation or…"

"I'm sorry, Sarah, but I'm sure. My f... My father never told me about Project Purity before I left The Vault and in the short time I spent with him, he never mentioned any activation code."

Sarah let out a sigh of disappointment. Lyons lost his gaze in the blank and seemed to be lost in his thoughts while the woman behind him remained impassive.

"We'll find it in time," Lyons finally said. "In the meantime, we must concentrate on the battle that lies ahead against the Enclave."

Without giving Damian time to ask him how he would take back the Jefferson Memorial from the Enclave, Lyons turned to the woman behind him.

"Meet Star Paladin Cross, my personal bodyguard and advisor one of the most trusted people I know. She, along with Sentinel Lyons, will be supervising you.

The one called Cross politely bowed her head to signify her agreement. Sarah probably would have liked to go to her men rather than watch Damian, but she showed no sign of it.

Lyons let Damian out of his office. Sarah stayed inside for another moment, probably to report back. Damian sat on a bench by the door. He checked on his wound and saw that it was almost entirely healed leaving only a thin scar.

While Sarah was still inside, he began to think of an excuse for his absence of several days. He suspected that the Brotherhood would want to know where he had been and what he had been able to do during those few days on the alien ship. He first thought about telling them the truth before chasing that idea away. No one would believe him if he ever told them that he had proof of the aliens' existence. Thinking back, it was better to keep this discovery a secret. The news of an alien ship in orbit above the Earth might as well be taken as another rumor of a slightly crazy wanderer, as it might attract the attention of unwanted groups of people. And if the Enclave discovered the truth and managed to seize the ship, it would be virtually invincible.

The office door closed behind Sarah. She had detailed her research and discovery of Damian. She had, however, deliberately omitted to mention that he had been missing for several days and had not mentioned the strange light in the sky near Minefield. If Damian did not mention it to her, then it was not a threatening subject for the Brotherhood or the Wasteland.

A sound of breathing caught her attention. Lying on the bench, Damian slept with his head resting on his travel bag as a pillow.

"I find it hard to believe that the tiny, vulnerable baby I escorted almost 20 years ago has grown so much."

Sarah turned around and saw the Star Paladin Cross next to her.

"Yes, it's also hard to believe that the young scared resident of a Vault that I met a few days ago has managed to survive that long," replied the Sentinel.

For a moment, Sarah remembered when some of the members of Project Purity, accompanied by the Brotherhood troops in charge of protecting the Jefferson Memorial, arrived at the Citadel. She remembered James cradling his son in his arms. She had overheard a discussion between some scientists, blaming James and his son for the abandonment of Project Purity, accusing one of being selfish and putting his child's future ahead of the Project and all of humanity, and the other of being born in the wrong place at the wrong time.

About a day after their arrival at the Citadel, all the scientists except James had left for Rivet City or had scattered in the Wastes. James had heard of a sealed Vault, not far from the town of Megaton, and decided to take a chance to enter it and offer his son a safe future, safe from the Super Mutants, Raiders, Slavers, feral ghouls and other abominations that dominated the Capital Wasteland. Accompanied by the Star Paladin Cross and two other Paladins, James and Damian had left the Citadel in the direction of Vault 101.

Sarah could still see Damian as a baby, wrapped in a cloth and hanging on to his father, on the day they left the Citadel. She never thought she would see him again, let alone in the middle of the ruined capital.

The young Sentinel watched Damian for a few moments. She tried to imagine the weight he was carrying on his shoulders. As a Sentinel and leader of an elite unit, she had a huge responsibility, but her task of leading her men into battle and killing the Super Mutants suddenly seemed insignificant compared to the future of the Capital Wasteland.

"Let him rest," said Sarah as she walked away. "Tomorrow, we're going to give him a hard time."

The Star Paladin Cross smiled briefly before walking away.

"Faster, Franklin! I've seen a one-legged man run faster than you!"

Damian huffed and puffed. He jumped over the small cinder block wall and rolled around, then stepped on a beam over a ditch, before jumping between several marks on the ground.

"I should strap some brahmin meat on your back and ask that dog of yours to chase after you! Maybe then you'll run faster!"

The small obstacle course that Cross and Sarah had devised for him stretched across the inner courtyard of the Citadel. He had to walk around the courtyard, clear all the obstacles in his path, then set up at the shooting range, load a laser rifle, shoot three targets, do the same with a pistol and assault rifle, attack a dummy in hand-to-hand combat with a knife and start again, all in three minutes.

Damian was on his tenth round. His legs were on fire, big drops of sweat were beading on his forehead and cheeks. The clothes the Brotherhood had given him were all sticky and wet. For a moment, he almost wished that his leg wound would reopen, but he felt that Sarah would make him run the obstacle course even with a broken limb. The other recruits of the Brotherhood were standing by the doors to the different wings of the building or on a small platform and were watching Damian.

He arrived at the shooting range. He loaded the microfusion cell into the laser rifle, removed the safety, aimed and fired. The ray hit a target painted on a small wall. He then fired at a soda bottle on a crate and finally at a mannequin dressed as a Super Mutant. He unloaded the energy cell from the rifle and moved on to an assault rifle and then a pistol and repeated the same actions. He then ran towards a second dummy, grabbing a knife with a serrated blade and stuck the knife into the cloth bag that served as the body of the mannequin.

He heard a bell ring.

"Come on, Franklin!" Sarah shouted. "Give me a series of push-ups and pull-ups, on the double!"

Damian wiped his forehead and dragged himself to a bar attached to two walls further away.

"Rhys! Pek! Care to tell us what's so funny?" shouted the Sentinel. "Maybe you'd like to join the Franklin's training?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Damian saw two recruits wipe the smiles off their faces and shake their heads frantically. As he lay down to begin his set of push-ups, one of the guards on duty at the door shouted that Vargas' team had returned from Vernon Square. Damian dropped to the ground with a sigh.

"It's not nap time yet!" barked Sarah's voice.

The Star Paladin Cross stood in front of Damian, even more impressive in her power armor. Without needing to say anything, she encouraged Damian to resume his training. As she counted the number of push-ups he was doing, Damian could see Sarah moving away towards the Citadel gate.

She came back a few minutes later with a worried look on her face.

"Okay, that's enough for today, Franklin," she said.

Damian let himself fall to the ground and rolled onto his back.

"Not bad," Sarah said with a sly smile. "Maybe we'll be able to make a real soldier out of you."

Damian growled. He had already trained with others Brotherhood recruit while he was at the Citadel just after the fall of the Jefferson Memorial, but he did not recall it to be that difficult. He noted somewhere in his mind to never make fun of Sarah again and he found himself envying the Super Mutants and the Herculean strength given by their mutation.

"Go get a shower. Meeting at the briefing room in ten mike" Sarah said, grabbing a towel and throwing it at him.

About ten minutes later, Damian had put on his Ranger armor, which seemed to weigh a ton. He found Sarah in the middle of a discussion with Vargas, Rothchild and Elder Lyons.

"Good you're here," smiled Rothchild. "Paladin Vargas managed to download a file with the location of all Vault-Tec fallout shelters on an holotape.

"That's going to tell us where Vault 87 is?" Damian asked.

"It did when we found it, yes," Vargas replied. "Now we just have to hope that the trouble we went to will be worth it."

"Thank you, Paladin," said Lyons. "You may go and rest now. I want your full report on the mission in the morning."

"Aye, aye, sir." Vargas replied before he left.

"If you'll come with me," said Rothchild.

The scribe headed into one of the corridors of the Citadel, followed by Damian, Lyons and his daughter. They arrived at a large laboratory, the doors of which were guarded by several soldiers. The walls were strewn with computers and electronic machines. In the center, a large white curtain seemed to hide something, connected to power cables. Damian lingered for a few seconds on the many scribes working around the place and saw Doctor Li and the other survivors of Project Purity who seemed to be overseeing the strange operation in progress and whatever was under that curtain.

Rothchild stopped in front of a large map on a wall. In the lower left corner, Damian could read that it was a map of Washington D.C. and its surroundings. Several points of interest were indicated, such as the Citadel, the Mall and Galaxy News Radio outposts, Megaton, and Rivet City. Damian also noted the location of the Jefferson Memorial and Vault 101 and other points in the ruins of D.C. that were unknown to him.

"Well, let's see if the efforts of Paladin Vargas and his men will pay off.

The scribe inserted a small holotpae into a slot in the wall next to the card. The icons on the card faded away for a few seconds before reappearing. Four more icons had just been added to the existing ones. On both axes of the map, two small metal rods began to move. At their intersection, a metal circle, allowing to highlight a precise point of the map, and a small transparent screen where geographical coordinates were displayed.

Rothchild approached a small keyboard and wrote a few seconds on it. The map locator slid to each of the new points. The icons took the form of a gear, which Damian recognized as the door of a Vault. Below each icon, a number was displayed each time the locator passed close by and faded as the locator moved away.

Damian noted that the location of Vault 112 was not shown on the map and he was internally pleased to know that Braun would continue to rot alone without anyone knowing. In the end, leaving aside Braun's Personal Vault, Vault-Tec had built five Vault in the Capital Wasteland. Vault 101, next to Megaton, Vault 108, south of a place called Canterbury Commons, Vault 92 in a small ruined town North of the Wasteland, Vault 106, northwest of Vault 101, and finally, Vault 87, far to the West.

"No really a close walk," Damian commented as he slid his gaze between the Citadel and Vault 87.

"It's going to take us several hours or even a whole day to get there," added Sarah.

"Indeed, but you won't be part of the journey Sarah. I need you for another equally important mission," Lyons intervened.

"If I don't go with Franklin, who will?" Sarah asked, visibly disappointed.

"Star Paladin Cross will go with him, as well as a Knight I leave it to you to choose," replied the young woman's father. "Reginald, do you think you can free one of your scribes to go with them?"

"Certainly," replied Rothchild. "I will let you know when I have chosen a suitable candidate."

An hour later, a small group consisting of Damian, Star Paladin Cross, Dogmeat, a Knight named Berry and a young scribe named Hood left the Citadel in the direction of Vault 87. Only Cross had chosen to wear her heavy power armor, the other members of the Brotherhood having opted for more discreet and comfortable clothes.

The most direct route would take them past a place called Fort Bannister. While he talked with Berry, Damian learned that it was an old military facility. The base had been a direct target of nuclear bombing during the Great War, but according to Berry, the area had, strangely, little or no radiation and the Talon Company had made it its headquarters. Having to pass in front of the door of those hired to kill him did not please Damian very much but he did not have much choice.

On the way, they passed near Megaton and Vault 101. Damian felt his heart grow tight at the thought that his home was only a few yards away from him, but that it was impossible for him to get there. He took comfort in the thought that once the purifier was back in the hands of the Brotherhood, the Enclave would soon fall, and he could return home. He noticed that they were taking the same route he had taken to get to Vault 112. The fact that Vault 87 and its G.E.C.K. were not far away from it made Damian sigh sadly. Without knowing it, he had found himself within easy reach of the missing piece of Project Purity. He wondered how his father would have reacted if he had known that the key to his life's work was so close.

Along the way, Damian had spoken at length with Cross. He had learned that it was she who had escorted him and James from the Citadel to Megaton and then to Vault 101. The Star Paladin held James in high esteem and praised him highly. When Damian told him that he had been very angry at his father for lying to him all these years, he felt Cross's inquisitive look on him, but she was pleased to hear that Damian had decided to help him work on Project Purity.

After several hours of walking, without encountering anything but a few foul-looking stray dogs, they arrived in sight of Fort Bannister. The old buildings of the Fort were nothing but a pile of concrete rubbles and the large, twisted radio tower was threatening to collapse at any moment.

Situated slightly higher up, the Fort was always surrounded by a wire fenced enclosure. The surrounding landscape was dotted with craters of varying width and depth. The road leading to the Fort was exceptionally deserted, unlike the many rows of vehicle wrecks that were usually found. On the other side of the fence, Damian could see fortifications, as well as small human figures.

"From here you shouldn't be bothered," said Cross, putting away a pair of binoculars. "If we go slightly around that way, we should avoid being spotted."

They climbed a hill and skirted a rock formation, always keeping an eye on the ruins of the Fort. When they were sure the Talon Company sentries could no longer see them, they went back down the road.

They kept moving forward and the sky above their heads was getting darker and darker. Suddenly Cross motioned for them to stop and climb a hill. When they reached the top, Damian glanced over a small rock. A group of about ten Super Mutants was passing by. The monsters were chatting among themselves with their guttural voices. By discussion, it was to be understood, a torrent of grunting and screaming. They passed Damian and the others and headed towards a small forest of dead trees a little further on.

"I've never seen so many uglies outside of downtown D.C.," Berry said as he lowered his rifle.

"What are they doing here?" Hood asked nervously.

"I don't know, but nothing good anyway," replied the Knight.

The young scribe could hardly hide her apprehension. Damian couldn't help feeling sympathy for her. Not much older than him, the young woman, long brown hair, pale skin, a mole above the lip and small emerald green eyes shining with intelligence, was a perfect reflection of Damian when he came out of Vault 101. Accustomed to the security of the Citadel and its piles of archives and technical documents, diagrams and manuals, she wasn't cut out for the Wastes, but Rothchild had chosen her for her quick-wittedness and because she was the one who had deciphered the Vault-Tec terminal and she had also accompanied Vargas' team in Vernon Square.

Quite the opposite of the Knight Berry, a thin-looking man with a slightly tanned complexion and very short black hair, but whom Damian knew to be a formidable fighter just by looking into his eyes.

Hood almost stuck to Berry, who seemed not to care. The young scribe had questioned Damian at great length about his life in the Vault, how it worked and how the Vault was still active. Now that they were not far from Vault 87 and had just crossed paths with this large group of Super Mutants, the young woman was finding it increasingly difficult to erase the mask of discomfort and fear that was settling on her face.

"Relax," Knight Berry smiled. "With me and the Star Paladin Cross, you're safe. Besides, I've heard that our Lone Wanderer here, is also good at killing muties."

Hood nodded nervously and smiled. Damian noticed that she tightened her hands more firmly on the handle of her laser gun.

"Let's go," said Cross as she walked down to the road.

A hundred meters separated them from the entrance to Vault 87, located in a cave behind a wooden screen door. The coordinates recovered by Vargas and the Troop clearly indicated this location. A plain, bordered by rocky hills and dotted with small dry bushes. On the plain, large pieces of metal and steel beams ending in a spike were planted in the ground. Patrolling around the entrance were three Super Mutants, equipped with studded sticks or hunting rifles.

"Great, more uglies," hissed Berry. "What the hell are they doing here?"

With no one to answer him, he sighed and glanced at Cross. Crouching with the others behind a rock overlooking the plain, she looked at the Super Mutants for a moment before turning to Berry and nodding. The Knight aimed up his rifle, adjusted the laser power and fired three successive shots. The mutants hit the ground almost simultaneously, all of them hit in the heart. Berry lowered his rifle and after making sure that no other mutants would appear, they leaved their hiding place.

Damian stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed Berry by the arm.

"Something wrong?"

Damian pointed his Pip-Boy at him. The pointer on the Geiger counter was slowly oscillating. He took a few steps forward and the crackling intensified with each step. Damian jumped backwards. Moira's experience with the bucket of irradiated water may have made him more resistant to radiation, but he wasn't crazy enough to check it out.

Hood reached into her bag and grabbed another Geiger counter. The dial with the pointer was mounted on a small grey case and was connected to a long retractable telescopic rod. The young scribe unfolded the telescopic arm and reached as far forward as she could before she extended it. The pointer jumped directly to the highest value and the ticking of the device changed to a long, high-pitched crackle.

"It's unbelievable!" said Hood. "We're at over 3,000 rads per second!"

"What do you think is causing it?" asked Berry.

"I... I don't know," said the young scribe as she grabbed back the rod and cleaned it. "The area doesn't look like it was hit directly during the Great War and I don't see any radioactive material or waste that would explain it."

"Let's get out of here before we all get sick," said Damian.

They returned to the rocky hill. Berry set up his rifle and began to look around.

"I've never seen radiation levels so high. If we ever try to go through there, we're going to fry for sure," said Hood.

"But we got to get into that Vault one way or another," Damian said.

"I'm afraid that's impossible," said the young scribe in a defeatist tone. "Even if we give all the Rad-X we have to one person, that person will die before reaching the door, and even if they do, the level of radioactivity will probably be just as high on the other side.

Damian swore and rubbed his jaw with his hand. He was trying to think of a way in, but none came to mind. Whether or not there was a G.E.C.K. inside Vault 87, there was no way to reach it.

"What if we give all the RadAway and Rad-X we have to Star Paladin?" Berry suggested. "With the lead coating on her power armor, she could make it."

"I can try," Cross replied, starting to pull the yellowish liquid pouches out of her belt pockets.

"No," replied Hood, shaking her head. "Even with that, the level of radioactivity is far too high."

"Damn it," Damian hissed between his teeth.

They remained silent for a few seconds, until Hood spoke again.

"Wait a minute," she mumbled.

"What? Berry and Damian said at the same time.

The young scribe searched frantically through her bag. Cross, Damian and Berry exchanged incomprehensible glances and stared at the young woman.

"Perhaps... Yes, it's possible... Within those parameters, then...," mumbled the young scribe to herself.

"Hum, Alice?" said Berry.

"Scribe Hood, care to share your idea with us?" Cross asked.

The young woman jumped out of her thoughts and realized that Damian, Cross and Berry were staring at her with a frown.

"Er... Yes, sorry. My apologies, Star Paladin."

She grabbed a piece of paper and she unfolded it and turned it over several time before putting it on the floor. It was a map. It had the same information as the tactical map of the Citadel.

Hood had placed her finger on a point just beside the annotation marking the entrance to Vault 87.

"Vault 87 is here," explained the young scribe. "And right there is a set of caves converted into a tourist attraction before the Great War."

"How will this help us?" Berry skeptically. "And how do you know that?"

"I saw a flyer about the caves in the library the other day and while we walked here, we passed a billboard that mentioned them."

She straightened up and pointed southeast. Cross grabbed her binoculars and observed the direction Hood was pointing.

"You think that since Vault 87 is nearby, it's possible to get to it through the caves, right?" asked Damian, who was beginning to get his hopes up.

"Yes."

Hood turned to Star Paladin Cross as she finished packing up her binoculars.

"It's worth a try," she said. "But stay on your guard, we don't know what might be lurking in those caves."

Damian, Hood and Berry nodded. They left their positions and headed for the caves.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Hood and Berry are characters I created. As I already said in one of the notes of a previous chapter, I always found strange for the Brotherhood to ask the LW to do everything on its own. Sure you have companions to back you up, but come on...**

**Anyway, thanks for reading and until next time (not in 3 days I promise)**


	35. Chapter 35: From Heaven to Hell

**Hello everyone. Today, we follow Damian, Dogmeat Star Paladin Cross, Scribe Hood and Knight Berry as they enter the Little Lamplight caves.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

The Lamplight Caves were just a few minutes away and were set next to an old road and a parking lot. Going down a hill, the entrance of the caves was overhung by a giant statue of, the attraction's mascot, a purple mole with a yellow miner's helmet, clawed legs and large moustaches.

Above, on the hill, an old water tower and a billboard, again depicting the mole with its playful look and yellow helmet, coming out of a hole in the ground, indicated the entrance to the site.

The old shop and museum entrance were slowly falling into ruin. Small garlands of lights and pennants ran over their heads from the entrance of the cave to the electric and telephone poles in the parking lot. Several watchtowers made of rotten wood tried to give the site a fortified appearance and a series of old, damaged wind turbines were slowly turning with the wind.

"Do you think we're going to find a civilization of intelligent Molerats or Dwarves like in the old pre-war movies?" asked Berry as he watched the mascot.

"I hope not," shuddered Hood.

"Get serious. Both of you," sighed Cross.

Damian could see the remains of human bones buried underground. The bones seemed to have been there for a very long time. He walked past the others and entered the cave.

The inside of the cave was lit by lanterns and garlands of different colored light bulbs. Damian and the others advanced through the narrow tunnel. The slippery, smooth slope forced them to hold on to an old, damp rope attached to the walls, or to the posts where the lanterns were attached.

They ended up in a large rock cavity, lit by garlands of light bulbs. They stood in front of a stop sign, and a little further on, a barricade of sheet metal and wood was blocking access to the rest of the cave. The place was fortified, and to Damian's relief, there was nothing to suggest the presence of Super Mutants or Raiders.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy there!"

An authoritative but very young voice echoed against the stalactites and cave walls. Damian looked for the person who had just spoken when he heard Berry choke with surprise.

"Holy shit! I was right! Dwarves!"

"Who are you calling a Dwarf, mungo?"

The voice that answered the Knight came from the barricade. Damian lit his Pip-Boy's lamp and pointed the beam in the direction of the voice. A small figure stood there on the barricade. At first Damian thought Berry was right, but then he realized that their mystery interlocutor was a child. A young boy with a round face and plump cheeks. The boy was rather small and couldn't have been more than 12 years old. He was wearing an olive-green military jacket, several sizes too big for him, and matching fatigues with knee pads. His jacket was held in place by a black leather harness and belt and elastic bands at the wrists. He also wore a white scarf as a hood under a large military helmet with goggles.

This sight might have been laughable if the young boy did not have an assault rifle in his hands, which he seemed to be able to handle with great ease.

"Hood," Cross whispered. "You're the best at talking and getting people to trust you. See what you can do."

The young scribe nodded shyly. She cleared her throat and stepped forward.

"Hold it right there, lady!" barked the young boy. "Not another step or I'll blow your fuckin' head off!"

Hood froze and slowly raised her arms. She nervously glanced at Cross and Berry and cleared her throat again and looked at the young boy again, putting a broad, forced smile on her face.

"Uh... Hi," she said insecurely, before pulling herself together. "You don't have to be afraid, we're friends."

"Yeah, sure. I don't have many friends and none of them are tall like you miss," replied the boy. "You'd better get the hell out."

"Can... Can you tell me about this place?" Hood asked.

The boy remained silent for a moment, squinting and looking at the young scribe.

"It's Little Lamplight. We live here and we don't want mungos like you snooping around, so get out!"

Hood took a brief glance at Cross, who encouraged him to continue.

"You... Can you tell me your name? My name is Alice, and this are my..."

"I'm MacCready," cut the boy down. "I run Little Lamplight because I was elected mayor. And I don't like strangers, let alone mungos like you."

"My friends and I would like to get into a Vault, not far from here, and we'd like to know if we can get there from these caves," said Hood.

"Yeah, but since you have to go through Little Lamplight and it's not allowed to the mungos, you won't go!"

"So, we can access the Vault from the caves?" Damian asked.

MacCready turned to him and gave him a murderous look. His face was getting redder with anger.

"Are you deaf or what? I said no mungos in Little Lamplight, so back off!"

"Listen, kid," Berry said in a bossy tone. "I am Knight Berry of the Brotherhood of Steel, and by order of Elder Lyons, it is vital that we pass for..."

"You don't frighten me, mungo!" MacCready cut him off. "Go and boil your bottoms, sons of a silly person! I blow my nose at you and your so-called Elder Lyons and his stupid knights!"

Berry stammered a few words before resuming.

"I, uh..."

"I don't want to talk to you anymore, you empty headed animal food trough wiper! Your mother was a Molerat and your father smelt of mutated fruit!"

Berry opened his mouth and immediately closed it again. He turned to Damian and the others. They were all stunned by the boy's grotesque and insulting remarks.

"Is there anyone else we can talk to? Hood asked shyly.

"No, now go away, or I'll do it again!"

Damian looked at the others, still reeling from the torrent of insults they'd just endured. He turned to MacCready.

"What could possibly make you trust us?"

"Trust?" the boy repeated. "There's no reason to trust mungos. They're only getting us into trouble, and I don't want what happened to Sammy and Squirrel to happen to anyone else."

"What happened to them?" Damian asked immediately.

MacCready remained silent for a moment. He seemed to curse himself inwardly for bringing up the subject. Damian had seen an opportunity to make the boy bend, and although he dreaded the answer to his question, he no longer intended to take gloves with this insolent youngster.

"They got caught with Penny," MacCready finally said with a serious tone. "By mungos like you. Slave traders from Paradise Falls."

Damian looked at the others. Cross and Berry displayed an expression of contempt when they heard the word _"slavers"_, and Hood looked horrified.

"If we get these children back, will you trust us?" Cross asked.

MacCready looked surprised. He should not have expected to be offered help with this problem.

"If you bring them back, perhaps I'll let you in," he said. "Now beat it!"

The young boy watched them slip away and disappear into the cave tunnels. Once outside, Cross went to the small souvenir hut next to the cave entrance.

"Although we should not stray from our goal and time is probably playing against us, we cannot leave these children in the hands of the slavers. That would be contrary to the precepts of Elder Lyons," she said.

"Besides, we can't enter the caves and find access to Vault 87 until we help that filthy little brat," Berry added.

"Any idea how we're going to do that?" asked the young scribe.

"No, but we'll figure it out when the time comes," said Damian.

Paradise Falls was located northeast of the Lamplight Caves. The place had kept its pre-war name and a large billboard had the name in blue letters on a red background. On his way there, Damian had learned from Hood that Paradise Falls was a giant old shopping mall with many shops and attractions. It was still possible to find here and there in the Wastes flyers inviting to come and visit the different shops. The fact that the place had become the hub of the slave market in the Capital Wasteland was quite humorous.

The whole area was turned into a fortress, surrounded by an enclosure made of wood and metal or car wrecks piled on top of each other. What attracted the most attention was the multitude of crows circling in the sky above the center and nesting in a gigantic statue, representing a young boy wrapped in a large lock of hair and holding an ice cone in his hand, which Damian recognized as the strange statue he had seen when he had been at the Georgetown police station to rescue Red and Shorty.

"How do you want to proceed? asked Berry, who was observing the area through the scope of his laser rifle.

Cross was sweeping the Paradise Falls compound with her binoculars. She mumbled, coming up with several ideas and immediately rejecting them.

"We could go in the front and pretend to be buyers," Damian suggested.

"Not with my power armor," Cross replied. "Usually, the slavers and the Brotherhood avoid each other, but who knows how they might react when they see me. If we're going to choose this idea, it will be without me."

"We could handle it," Damian insisted. "Between the three of us, pardon me, four (he looked at Dogmeat who had just barked as if to show his disapproval) we could go in without too much trouble."

Cross thought for a few moments.

"It's risky," she finally said. "But we don't have much choice. And even if you manage to get back, how do you plan to free the children? I doubt you have enough caps to buy their freedom."

"We'll see when the time comes," Damian said. "Staying here isn't going to do us much good, and the more time we waste thinking, the more these poor kids are at risk and the more the Enclave is likely to find out that it needs a G.E.C.K. and where to get one."

A tiny smile appeared on Cross's lips.

"_Your father would be extremely proud,"_ she said to herself as she watched Damian and the others rummage through their things and collect all their caps.

About ten minutes later they were ready. Damian had taken off his armor and his Pip-Boy and was wearing only a t-shirt and his fatigues. Arriving in front of the slavers wearing the colors of the Reilly's Rangers had not seemed like a good idea. He had left his bag and tied a piece of grey cloth around his head as a bandana. Their plan was quite simple. Berry and Hood would pose as a couple of merchants looking to acquire a child slave and Damian would play the role of their bodyguard. Cross would stay behind with Dogmeat and cover them with Berry's rifle if the situation were to escalate.

The entrance to Paradise Falls was at the end of a small road framed by barricades and buildings too damaged to be used. Two African American men stood guard and were to act as a checkpoint for buyers, sellers and caravans passing through the area.

When Damian and the others arrived, the two guards stopped their discussion and pulled the breeches of their guns, looking threatening. Damian glanced at Hood, but the young scribe did not let her nervousness show.

One of the guards, with a shaved head, wearing a grey jacket and jeans, motioned for them to stop.

"You only enter Paradise Falls if you're here for business. And I decide whether your business is worth or not."

"We're here to buy," said Berry.

"And sell?" asked the second guard with a smile.

He put his hands on the breastplate of his battle armor and glanced briefly at Damian before dwelling on Hood.

"How much you want for the girl?"

"You'd better watch your mouth when you're next to her," Damian spat. "Now either you let us pass, or you continue wasting our time. We came here to do business, not to argue with the gatekeepers."

The armored guard stared at him. Damian was beginning to fear that his mercenary impersonation wouldn't fool the guards for long.

"Please excuse my bodyguard," smiled Berry. "He takes his job a little too much to heart at times. As he tried to explain, we are here to do business, and no, my wife is not for sale."

Berry gave a bad guy look at the guards and knocked together the caps they had gathered in a small purse. The first guard with the shaved head stared at Damian for a few more seconds before turning to the Knight. He seemed to think for a few moments.

"All right, you can enter, but make sure that little shit holds his tongue in front of Eulogy," he said, giving Damian a scornful glance.

He and his companion stepped aside and let them pass. Berry grabbed Hood by the waist and pulled her gently with him towards the entrance. After a few yards, he looked over his shoulder and made sure the two slavers couldn't hear them.

"Thanks," smiled Hood shyly at Damian.

"Hope I did not attract too much attention on us," said Damian.

"I don't think," answered Berry. "If these two guys would report or shoot every person talking back to them, they'd have a lot less clients."

Damian looked behind his shoulder and saw that the guards had resumed their conversation and did not pay any attention to them.

"Okay, once inside, we'll go see this guy, Eulogy, while I negotiate a price with him, you'll go and see where the children are," Berry said.

"Understood," replied Hood and Damian.

The entrance to Paradise Falls was marked by a large concrete arch painted red with a blue sign on metal bars reading _"Paradise Falls Shopping Centre"_. A wall of car wreckage was used as an enclosure and access was via the wreckage of a bus. A macabre decoration greeted Damian and the members of the Brotherhood. Impaled in the arch on steel rods protruding from the concrete or attached by chains or barbed wire to the sign, human skeletons seemed to observe them and envy their living status.

"Fucking savages," Berry growled in a breath.

Looking around him, Damian saw that the slavers had set up cages, suspended from lampposts or trees. Most of them were empty, but some contained bones that had spilled on the ground and were slowly beginning to be covered with dust.

Two other guards were at the entrance. They looked curiously at Damian and his companions before resuming their discussion. Suddenly, shouts came from the other side of the arch and the wall of cars. A man dressed in rags and a young boy in an old scout's outfit ran out of the wrecked bus. The two guards tried to intervene, but the man pushed the first one and sent a blow to the throat of the second one, who fell to his knees. He must have had a sharp object in his hands, for Damian noticed a thin stream of blood coming out of the victim's throat and spilling over the dusty ground.

The first guard got up almost immediately and grabbed the boy by the wrist and put him down on the ground. The man trying to escape turned around briefly before continuing to run. He saw Damian and the others and ran towards them. He grabbed Hood's arms and began to scream, his voice distorted by fear.

"Help me! Please!"

Damian noticed that he was wearing a metal necklace around his neck that seemed very uncomfortable. The young scribe stammered something when a third slaver appeared. Dressed in khaki battle armor, an assault rifle, and with all his head shaved off except a small blond crest, he looked down at the young boy, who was struggling in vain, and at the guard who was holding his throat and trying to stem the flow of blood. He turned to the fugitive and called out to him, aiming his rifle to him.

The fugitive uttered a squeak of terror and let go of the young scribe, who almost fell to the ground. The fugitive ran towards the Wastes. Damian heard a rapid series of _"beeps"_. The next moment, the fugitive's head disappeared into a red mist. The headless body tilted forward and slipped before coming to rest.

Hood hiccupped in fright and covered her face with her hands. Damian could hardly understand what he had just seen. Without hearing a gunshot, the fugitive's head had exploded. Out of the corner of his eye, Damian saw the two guards from the checkpoint running up to him.

"Forty, what the hell happened?"

The slave trader with the blonde crest, answering to the name of Forty, approached the corpse.

"The fucker tried to run off with one of the kids but his collar blew his brains out."

The two guards turned towards the child, still being held down by the slaver.

"Grouse, go back to your post, barked the man at the ridge. And you Richter, clean up this mess."

He returned to the entrance after a brief look at Damian and the others.

"Dirty little brat," the man said. "I should put you in the Box with your boyfriends."

He grabbed the boy by the wrist and lifted him up.

"You take care of him," he said, addressing the last remaining slaver and pointing to the guard who had finished bleeding to death.

He pushed the boy into the wreckage of the bus and rushed in after him.

"I think we found what we were looking for," Berry whispered.

"God... What a horrible place..."

Hood could not take her eyes off the headless body next to them. The Knight gently pressed her arm to bring her back to reality. Damian didn't know if the Brotherhood scribes had to go through the same training as the Knights, Paladins or him, but even years of obstacles courses and shooting at cardboard targets can't prepare someone for the horrific sight of a head being sprayed in a cloud of blood.

"Looks like we have another problem," Damian said. "If we get the kids out without removing their collars..."

He didn't need to finish his sentence. Berry was already thinking of a solution and Hood was trying not to imagine that vision.

"Hey, you, with the bandana! Stop jerking around and come help me!"

Damian and the Brotherhood members turned around. The guard was leaning over his companion and was obviously waiting for Damian to help him carry the body.

"You heard him," said Berry, who was resuming his role as a slave trader. "Go help him and join us inside when you're done."

He walked to the wreckage of the bus with the young scribe. Damian approached the slaver. The man with the throat wound was dead. A puddle of dark red liquid continued to grow beside him.

"Grab his legs," ordered the slaver.

"Where are you taking him?" Damian asked.

"Inside."

Damian tilted his rifle over his shoulder and grabbed the corpse by the ankles and lifted him up. He passed the wreckage and went inside Paradise Falls.

A sign with a revolver drawn on it surrounded by a crossed circle, and a message that all visitors should keep their weapons in their holsters was just on the other side. The sign was also decorated in the same manner as the arch. Human skulls were planted on metal spikes. As he passed by, he had the impression that the skulls were following him with their empty sockets.

The inside of Paradise Falls looked more like a dump than a base or a town. Piles of trash littered the ground, car wrecks cluttered parts of the site, and the facades of the buildings were in dire need of maintenance or they would soon collapse.

The slavers had put up signs in front of each shop to indicate their new use. Near the entrance, Damian saw a shop converted into a shack and a clinic.

He helped the slaver transport the corpse. They placed the body near the door and the slaver banged his fist on the door glass.

"Cutter! Cutter! Open up!"

The door opened on the fly. A woman in her forties, her face starting to wrinkle, her white hair cut short and wearing a dirty white t-shirt and brown fatigues, appeared.

"What?" she grunted.

She looked at Damian from head to toe before she saw the corpse.

"What the hell is this shit?"

"One of the new slaves wanted to escape and he killed Lewis," replied the slaver with Damian.

The woman sighed. She waved for the slaver to come in and disappeared into her clinic. Damian entered with the corpse. Just after the entrance, a series of opaque plastic screens separated the rest of the room from the rest of the room, in a state of dilapidation and filth that would have made a Mister Handy break down.

"Put it down there, I'll take care of it," grunted Cutter.

Damian laid the body on a surgery table. The slaver turned to him and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"Thanks, man. You should get back to your buddies. Be a shame if they'd confuse you with the livestock."

He uttered a sneer, to which Damian replied with a forced smile. The slaver left the clinic and returned to his post, apparently undisturbed by the death of his companion. Damian looked around him.

On the lampposts or on metal poles, the slavers had set up other cages or hung other skeletons. In front of Damian, a metal footbridge surrounded a concrete pylon topped by a metal ball with a plaster coating where spikes were jutting out in a disorderly fashion. The old sign was now used as a small watchtower to watch the entrance and the rest of the place and a heavy machinegun that Damian had only seen in photos from the Second World War was installed there. The guard on duty seemed to be nonchalantly observing a small square a little further away.

At the foot of an old cinema, a small crowd was gathered. Damian found Berry and Hood away from the crowd. The spectacle before their eyes was sad and distressing and Damian was nauseous just by looking at it.

Standing on a pool table, three men and a woman, all wearing metal collars around their necks, were being inspected by a small crowd. Damian's heart skipped a beat. The woman on the pool table had long brown hair, a dull complexion and was wearing a vault suit. He shook his head and blinked several times to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He even pinched his arm, but no, the woman was right there on that pool table, exposed like a piece of meat.

Damian caught Berry's eye. The Knight implored him not to intervene and Hood looked away and bit her lip. Damian couldn't take his eyes off the woman. He began to imagine a whole bunch of hypotheses. What if the Radroaches who had infiltrated the Vault on the day of his escape had caused a series of malfunctions leading to its destruction? What if the residents were forced to open the Vault and move to the Wasteland? Or had Amata been overwhelmed by her father's totalitarianism and decided to leave to find Damian?

Theories were racing through Damian's head and he could feel his heartbeat racing. He tried to calm down, to convince himself that this woman was from another Vault in the region. After all, there were four other Vault in the area around D.C. and it was quite possible that they were still inhabited. Even so, Damian could not get the image of Amata, displayed in front of a crowd bidding to take it over, out of his mind.

The small crowd of about ten people asked questions in an anarchic way to a woman with a shaved head, except for two small locks of hair that looked like demon horns, wearing a leather outfit and a big pink sweater. The questions revolved mainly around the woman's age. The woman in the pink sweater ordered her to raise his head. She hit the billiard table with a metal pipe, which startled the woman. She lifted her head up.

Damian almost breathed a sigh of relief. The woman was a stranger to him. It was then that he noticed that she wasn't wearing a Pip-Boy and that what he had mistaken for a vault suit was actually a utility suit. The woman looked terrified and was shaken with sobs and her tears made a furrow in the dirt on her face. Damian cursed himself internally for feeling relieved that this woman was not Amata.

He could feel the rage rising inside him. A hatred as intense as the hatred he felt for the members of the Enclave was growing inside him. Damian turned his eyes away from the heartbreaking vision and tried to suppress the growing desire to take his assault rifle and empty the magazine into the crowd of slavers and merchants in front of him.

He saw the man in combat armor and the little crest in great discussion with a man in a leather outfit and another in a red suit. The man in the leather outfit seemed unhappy, and despite the hubbub, Damian managed to capture bits and pieces of their conversation.

The man in the leather outfit seemed very unhappy and pointed an authoritative finger at the man on the crest while the man in the red suit was trying to reassure him about a payback story. The man in the leather suit retrieved a satchel, probably full of caps, and, with great gestures of his arms, headed for the exit.

The sale lasted a few more minutes. Damian feared that they were too late and that the children had already been sold. The crowd dispersed, taking with them the poor men and women who had been sold.

The man in the red, African American suit, with a shaved head and a well-shaven goatee, walked towards Damian and his companions. He was flanked by two women, a Caucasian one with white hair and a shaved head on one side and an African American, with hair imitating devil's horns. Both were wearing a pink strappy dress and a slave necklace.

"If you're looking for a good deal, you've come to the right place," he said with a grin. "Paradise Falls is there to fulfill your desires."

"You must be Eulogy, I presume," said Berry, who played his part to perfection. "My companion and I are looking for something... Special."

Berry knocked the caps together in his purse. Eulogy smiled broadly. He raised his arm and pointed to a small space protected by old bus shelters. The place had been converted into a bar and restaurant. A few merchants had stopped there to buy some food before resuming their journey and some slavers had sat down and chatted happily over a drink.

Eulogy, still escorted by the two women who followed him like his shadow, invited Berry and Hood to sit down. He glanced briefly at Damian before turning to the Knight.

"If I may say so, having a slave as a bodyguard can sometimes be... A dangerous thing."

"He's not a slave, he's more like my handyman. A slave bodyguard might be tempted not to guard the body that feeds and protects him," replied Berry.

"That's right," smiled Eulogy. "That's why I made sure that Clover and Crimson (he referred to the Caucasian and African-American women in turn) had an unfailing affection for me."

Damian was beginning to think that Berry had missed his calling by joining the Brotherhood. Eulogy smiled. He clapped his hands and the barman, a man in his thirties, brown hair with a small beard, immediately ran up with a bottle of wine and three glasses. He uncorked it and poured the red liquid into the glasses before returning to the counter as quickly as he had come.

"So, you come to Paradise Falls with a very definite idea," said Eulogy as he spun the wine in the glass. "That something _"special"_ as you say, what is it?"

"Well, we..."

A sound of broken glass caught everyone's attention. In front of the counter, a mountain of muscle enclosed in spiked metal armor had just passed by on the other side of the bar and was staring at the bartender.

The man in armor, with a shaved head and a thick beard, was screaming, his face a few inches away from the bartender.

Out of the corner of his eye, Damian saw the slavers watching the scene with some satisfaction and started taking bets. The bartender stammered an apology and tried to back out. The man grabbed him by the hair and smashed his face against the counter. Hood looked away. Damian feared that she couldn't play her part for much longer. What idea had crossed Rothchild's mind when he decided to send this young woman with them? Fortunately, all eyes were on the man in armor and the bartender, and no one noticed the young scribe's reaction.

The bartender stood up from behind the counter. His jaw was broken, and all his teeth had shattered on impact. Some laughter escaped from some of the slave traders present. The man in spiked armor grabbed a baseball bat and with a quick, sharp blow, brought it down on the bartender's skull, which collapsed several centimeters.

Damian shivered when he heard the skull bones crack. The bartender collapsed behind the counter. The man in metal armor spat and grabbed a bottle of vodka from one of the shelves and returned to his seat.

"Please forgive my employees, they can sometimes be... Impulsive," Eulogy said as he turned to Berry. "So, you were telling me you were here to buy something out of the ordinary, is that right?"

"Yes," replied Berry. "We're looking to buy a child."

Eulogy displayed a grin.

"You're lucky, I've just got a new arrival. But why doesn't Madam go and see them. I'm sure you'll find them to your liking."

"I was thinking of sending my bodyguard instead. He has a... A certain gift for this sort of thing."

Damian masked his surprise with a grunt of approval. Eulogy stared at him for a few moments before he threw his hand in the air.

"Here at Paradise Falls, we make no judgments. Do as you please."

Damian walked away to the pens. A little further away, he noticed a large grey cylindrical capsule. He had seen similar ones in the Wastes before.

As far as he knew, they were pods that would provide shelter for one or even two people in case of a nuclear explosion or heavy radioactive fallout. All those he had seen were usually occupied by the remains of a man or a woman who had taken refuge there when the bombs fell and who had then perished, either from radiation too strong, hunger or thirst, or by suicide. The one at Paradise Falls seemed to have been converted back into a cell by the slavers, judging by the sign reading _"The Box"_ next to the small fallout shelter, and Damian could hear someone inside banging against the metal walls.

In an enclosure, three children were comforting each other. Damian approached the fence. A guard watched him for a moment and stepped aside to let him pass.

Damian walked towards the fence and called out to the children. He looked over his shoulder. The guard had just lit a cigarette and yawned loudly. Chances were, he was spying on the conversation, either to pass the time or because he was ordered to.

Of the three children, two were boys, one wearing a Boy Scout uniform and the other a baseball jacket that was too big for him. The girl, Black, wore grey overalls and a t-shirt.

The boy in the Boy Scout's uniform, whom Damian recognized as the one he had passed on his way in, approached.

"What do you want mungo?" he spat.

"My name is MacCready. I'm here for you and your friends. I know a cave where you'll be very happy to live."

Damian hoped the boy would get the message. His face lit up and he came a little closer to the fence.

"Are you here to get us out?" whispered the boy.

"Yes, I have friends who are trying to negotiate your freedom, but if it goes wrong, we'll have to find something else."

"Can't you just kill all the mungos in here?"

"Have you seen how many there are? All of them against three of us? Besides, we need to disable those collars first."

The boy massaged his neck as he pondered the fate of the runaway.

"Squirrel may have found a way, but..."

He fell silent and took a few steps back. Damian looked over his shoulder. Berry, Hood and Eulogy, still flanked by his two guard dogs in pink robes, approached him.

"So?" Berry asked.

"I think all three will be a good choice, Sir" Damian replied.

"Yes, excellent. They're a bit dissipated, but I'm sure you'll be able to instill the necessary discipline in them," smiled Eulogy.

He turned to Berry and Hood.

"For the one with the Boy Scout uniform and the girl, I'll let you have them for 500 caps each. The third one, what's his name again... Squirrel, yes. He's a very smart kid for his age. 500 would be a crime. 1,000 caps."

Damian swore on the inside. The three of them didn't even have half the money. Berry tried to negotiate but Eulogy frowned slightly. Any attempt to bargain was automatically doomed to failure.

"Well, I'm afraid this transaction will be for the next time. If you can come back with the money, then they will be yours."

Eulogy invited Damian and the others to leave. As he was escorted to the exit, Damian gave one last look at the children.

* * *

**Arriving in Little Lamplight always made me think about the French tauting scene of Monty Python's Holy Grail. That's why I made MacCready say it.**

**As for Paradise Falls, I always felt that the place was empty. I guess it was meant that way in case you wnat to burn the place to the ground for good karma, but the fact that there was no "cinematic"/scripted event other than the the guy escaping and getting his head blown off, made the place like any other Fallout bad guys fortress for me.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed and until next time.**


	36. Chapter 36: The Great Escape

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well and that quarantine is not driving you crazy. In today's chapter, we'll see how Damian and his companions will make the kid escape from Paradise Falls**

* * *

Berry, Hood and Damian had returned to Star Paladin Cross. When she saw them return without the children, she guessed that their mission did not go as planned.

"What happened?"

"We tried to negotiate the price for the children, but we didn't have enough," lamented Berry.

"So, what do we do?" Cross asked. "If we leave them here, who knows what will happen to them and we lose our access to Little Lamplight."

"Tonight. We get them out tonight."

Everyone turned to Damian. He, Berry and Hood had already agreed to infiltrate the slave base under cover of night. As they left the market, Damian had spotted an armory near the door. He stopped there and was able to buy a silencer for his assault rifle and some magazines.

"It's just as risky," Cross replied. "But I don't think we have a choice. You and Berry will go. Hood and I will wait for you as close as we can and if anything goes wrong, we'll intervene."

Damian nodded. He knew that if their operation to get the children out of Paradise Falls failed, they would either join the slaves in the pens or be executed.

Damian and Berry had snuck up to the wall. The light from the campfires projected an orange aura into the ink-black sky, turning Paradise Falls into a lighthouse in the night. The two men checked their weapons one last time. Damian had installed the silencer on his assault rifle. Cross had also provided them with two small radios with earpieces. This way they could communicate with her and each other once inside.

Berry stood at the foot of the wall of one of the buildings in the complex and turned towards Damian. He motioned for him to come closer. Damian stepped on the Knights thigh which propelled him up. Damian glanced around and signaled to the Knight that the way was clear. He stepped over the small ledge of the roof and helped Berry up.

"I'm going to stay on the roof," said Berry. "From there I should be able to monitor the area for you and provide fire support, in case shit hits the fan. You'll have to go through the main entrance to get out. I'll notify the Star Paladin and Alice and tell them to stand by the entrance and provide the fire support necessary for your escape."

"Here," said Damian.

He handed him his assault rifle. If the Knight were to cover him, a weapon with a silencer would be more effective than his laser rifle. Berry shook his head and designated his laser rifle with a smile.

"I more of an energy weapons type of guy. But you, use this instead."

He pointed to Damian's trench knife.

"A silencer is good, but nothing beats a classic sharp blade."

Killing someone with a gun was an easy thing to do. Pulling the trigger, hearing the shot, and the person would die instantly. A knife was a different story. To feel at the end of your arm, the life of the person you stabbed leave your body, looking this person in the eyes and seeing up close, the mask of terror and incomprehension on their face. Damian had lost count of the things he had killed since he had left the Vault. He had shot and killed many people, but he had never had to do it with a knife. He took a deep breath and turned towards the slave camp.

"We stay in contact," Berry said, pointing to the earpiece on his radio. "Good luck and if things get out of hand you get out of here asap."

Damian nodded. He watched the Knight climb onto the roof of the building next to them.

They were next to the pens. The small square where the sale had been held, in front of the cinema, was lit by a campfire and a slaver was sitting facing the blaze, turning his back on them. Damian approached the fence of the children's enclosure. He looked over his shoulder. The slaver seemed bored stiffly and stared at the flames yawning.

"_This guy looks like he's having the time of his life,"_ Berry's voice joked in Damian's ear.

Damian picked up a small pebble and threw it into the pen. After a few second, he did it again. The young boy he'd been talking to came out of a building that was to be their barrack.

"I can't believe you're back," the boy whispered, smiling.

"You said your friend had a plan," Damian answered.

The boy motioned for him to wait. He walked away to the barracks and went inside. A few seconds later, he returned with the other boy.

"Sammy says I have to tell you about the plan, mungo, so listen carefully. We need to disable those collars if we're gonna get out. I found an old computer in the building that I was able to turn back on. The mungos use a terminal to manage the collars, so if you can link the two terminals, I can disable the collars without anyone noticing."

"Okay," said Damian. "Where's that computer?"

"It's their boss who takes care of it," answered Squirrel.

He pointed the finger at the cinema.

"Perfect," Damian sighed. "Are you sure there's no other way?"

"No," the boy replied shaking his head. "It's this or nothing."

"So, let's say I link the terminals together, what's next?"

"The other day we spotted a small tunnel in the toilet over there."

The boy pointed to a building on the right.

"It'll be big enough for us but not for the mungo so we can get out quietly."

Damian activated his radio to talk.

"Did you hear that Berry?"

"_Yeah_," sizzled the Chevalier's voice. _"I don't like it."_

"I have to try," says Damian.

Damian did not listen to Berry's answer and headed for the cinema.

_"You're a real stubborn fool. Don't move, I'm here to help you."_

"No," Damian objected. "Stay where you are and watch the area. If we both get trapped in this theater, it's the end."

He heard Berry sigh. Damian approached the guard by the campfire. He recognized Forty, with his little crest and his khaki combat armor. The slaver mumbled to himself and fanned the fire in front of him. Damian approached silently.

_"Franklin."_

Damian was startled. Berry's voice had just echoed through his earpiece.

"_The bridge with the thorny ball. A guard by the .50 cal MG."_

Damian looked in the direction indicated by Berry. Right next to the strange sea urchin-shaped sign, another slaver was sitting next to a heavy machinegun. Mounted on a tripod, the gun was pointed at the entrance, but it was a good bet that it could be pointed at Damian in no time.

"_The knife,"_ Berry's voice said in the earpiece.

Damian lowered his eyes to the holster on his leg. He grabbed the handle and slowly slid the blade out of the case.

He was only inches away from the slaver who continued to mumble and stare at the flames. Damian was already imagining the guard struggling with the blade stuck in his body and him struggling to kill him quickly.

Forty raised his arms yawning and stretched out. Damian jumped down on him in a split second. He put his hand over the mouth of the slaver and at the same time pushed the serrated blade into his neck. Damian felt the spasm that went through the slaver spread into his arms and his whole body. He could literally feel the life leaving the body of Forty. Damian turned the blade and heard the skin and flesh tearing. A thick stream of black blood flowed from the wound and permeated Damian's hand and the slaver's clothes.

It was over in less than five seconds. Damian felt the body of Forty collapse. He accompanied him in his fall, so that the heavy combat armor he was wearing would not make a sound when it hit the ground.

Damian gently pulled the body out of the fireplace. He looked up at the second guard. His silhouette stood out slightly in the night sky. He hadn't heard his companion die and hadn't yet noticed Damian's presence.

Damian approached the cinema door. He didn't know what he would find inside and prepared his assault rifle.

"I'm going in," he said as he turned the knob on the door.

"_Good luck,"_ answered the Knight in the radio.

He entered a large entrance hall. Sculpted columns supported a balcony that ran around the hall. Opposite the door, the old cinema counter, framed by two openings to access the projection room, now served as a bar. In one corner of the room, cages piled up, probably waiting for their next unfortunate tenant. On the floor, fluorescent green mushrooms were growing and spreading a small glow. The marble walls were strewn with movie posters, pre-war propaganda or advertisements for stores in the mall or the region.

Damian could hear shouts coming from the next room. He walked into the entrance on the right. The projection room was a large room measuring maybe twelve by ten meters. Two rows of three marble columns supported the ceiling. A black and white tile floor, slightly damaged, gave the room a rather luxurious appearance. The slavers had installed two construction site projectors to light the room. An old video projector, on a table, casted a pale beam of white light against the wall. The back wall was decorated with a human skeleton hanging by its feet. The red leather benches had been removed or pushed to the side to make way for a large heart-shaped bed with white sheets and a flamboyant red blanket.

Around the bed, empty alcohol bottles, cigarette butts and empty syringes laid on the floor. A small table surrounded by chairs, next to a motorcycle in perfect condition, was covered with alcohol bottles and glasses.

Tied to the bed with ropes and gagged, Damian recognized Eulogy's two bodyguards, dressed only in their explosive collars. The chief of the slavers, also naked as a worm, was lying on top of one of the two women and swiftly moved back and forth with his pelvis.

Damian grimaced and scanned the room. In the right corner he noticed a table against a wall and next to it a computer, connected to the wall.

Eulogy straightened up and stood up. He walked over to the small table and poured himself a large glass of whisky. Damian entered the room. He noticed a door on his right leading to a staircase that probably led to the balcony of the hall and the terrace of the cinema. Damian glanced around and saw no one. He walked towards Eulogy. Eulogy turned around and opened his mouth when he saw Damian.

The young man threw the butt of his rifle into his stomach. Eulogy fell to his knees and massaged his stomach.

"I recognize you, you're the bodyguard of this guy and his wife. What the hell are you doing here? the slaver said after a moment.

"Shut up," Damian spat. "I'm here for the kids."

"You like those little monsters, don't you?" laughed Eulogy.

Damian kicked him in the jaw. The slaver fell on his side. Damian pulled the breech of his gun and put the silencer on Eulogy's head.

"If you're not dead yet it's because I need you to deactivate the children's explosives collars."

"Fuck you..."

Damian punched Eulogy and grabbed him by the neck before dragging him to the terminal.

"Connect this computer to the one in the slave barracks."

"What terminal?"

Eulogy didn't move. Damian pressed the barrel of his gun to his head.

"Obey., unless you want me to spray your brain on that wall."

The slaver growled and lit the terminal. He unlocked it and started working on it.

Damian was sweating profusely. He glanced nervously at the door leading to the terrace stairs and the entrance. He surprised himself. When he came out of the Vault, he couldn't imagine what he would have to do to find James. Today, he was holding a man at gunpoint to save children from a gang of slavers. He felt he was becoming as ruthless as the world around him.

"It's done," Eulogy spat.

Damian pressed his little radio and started talking.

"How does it look out there, Berry?"

"_Don't see any changes… Uh… Wait, the kids just removed their collars, but they're still in the pen._

"Where are the keys?"

Damian pushed the barrel of his gun a little more against his head until he pointed to his red suit jacket hanging from a chair.

"You're not getting out of here, you..."

Damian wouldn't let him finish his sentence. Eulogy had slid his hand over a bottle of booze to hit Damian. The sound of the gun with the silencer was heard and the bullet entered Eulogy's skull from behind and his face exploded, drawing black patterns on the wall and table. The body of the slaver collapsed at Damian's feet.

Damian searched the slaver's suit and pulled out a small bunch of keys, which he put in the pocket of his fatigues. He approached the bed. Still tied up, the two women seemed to be in a state of disarray. He looked one last time at Eulogy's corpse. The contempt and hatred he felt for him and his men grew even greater.

He put his assault rifle on his shoulder and began to loosen the bonds of one of Eulogy's slaves. He turned to the second slave's bonds when he received a blow to the head. Damian swung to the side. He raised his head. Clover had jumped on her feet and was running at him. She slapped Damian and left a big scratch on his cheek. The woman waved her arms as if she wanted to scratch his face and pierce his eyes off. He grabbed her wrists and pinned her to the ground.

"Stop! I'm here to save you!"

Clover alternated his gaze between the corpse of Eulogy and Damian. His eyes shone with fury and hatred. Damian had completely forgotten that when they first met, Eulogy had bragged about brainwashing the two young women.

Crimson was struggling like a possessed woman to free herself from her bonds and was making hysterical squeals. Clover sent a knee bump into Damian's flanks, forcing him to roll on his side. His rifle fell from his shoulder. Clover threw herself on the gun and pointed it at him.

Damian plunged behind one of the columns. The bullets were flying in his direction. The whistle of the silencer sounded incredibly loud to him. He could feel the pieces of marble flying around him.

The gun magazine was empty. Clover kept frantically pulling the trigger, hoping to magically fire another round. Damian left his cover and grabbed a bottle of liquor from a table and hit the woman on the head. She collapsed on the bed, pieces of glass embedded in her temple and blood slowly spilled on the sheets. Crimson had just released one of her hands. She was about to remove her gag and scream for help. Damian draw his silenced pistol and fired. The woman barely had time to hiccup before the bullet ripped her throat.

She collapsed next to her companion, trying to breath and call for help. Damian sighed long and lowered his gun. He ran his hand over his sweat-soaked face.

_"Franklin? Are you in there? What the hell are you doing?"_

Berry's voice crackled on his radio.

"Yes, I'm here. I'm coming out," Damian said.

"Stop loitering. Hood found the access to the escape tunnel the kids are going through. She'll pick them up and meet us and Cross when it's over. »

"Roger that."

Damian wiped his face again and headed for the exit. When Berry saw him come out, he waved his hand. The guard was still beside the machine gun and, to Damian's relief, didn't seem to have heard the confrontation with Eulogy's two slaves. Damian returned to the pen and unlocked the door.

The children were immersed in a discussion. The two boys seemed to be arguing up on the little girl, who nodded her head to indicate her disagreement on a specific subject.

"What's going on?" Damian asked, turning the key in the lock. "The way is clear, we have to go."

"It's Penny," sighed one of the boys. "She's being dumb."

_"What's going on?"_ said Berry impatiently on the radio.

"Penny, we've got to go," whispered the Squirrel.

"No, I don't want to go without Rory."

The little girl had her arms folded and was pouting. Damian sighed. He was starting to lose patience and to hate the three child who where going to get them killed.

"Where's Rory?" he asked in a slightly annoyed tone.

"In the Box. The mungos locked him in because he was giving them shit."

"If Rory can't leave, then I'm staying," the little girl sulked.

"I'll go get him," sighed Damian. "You go ahead."

The two boys took Penny to the tunnel. The little girl kept staring at Damian as he walked towards the Pulowski shelter. The slavers had modified the lock and installed an old rusty padlock to keep the shelter sealed. Damian tried not to think about how a child might feel, locked in that place for hours.

He tried several keys until he found the good one an turned it into the padlock before removing it. He slid the door open, praying the squeaky metal wouldn't attract the guard's attention. Damian was hit on the chin and stumbled.

A man in his thirties stood in front of him, wearing a black hooded sweater and a lattice with boots. With graying hair and a goatee that needed trimming, he looked around him, his fists clenched, ready to strike at anything that came within his reach.

"Slaver bastard," cried the man.

"Rory."

Damian turned his head. Penny had just run towards them. She hugged the man, obviously very embarrassed by the physical contact.

"We're escaping," the little girl said. "Hurry up, come on."

"But… What about the explosives collars?" Rory asked.

"Off," Damian grunted, massaging his chin. "Now we have to get out of here and pray that you didn't attract the attention of whole Paradise Falls."

Rory looked sorry.

"You should get out of here, kid," said Rory, gently pulling Penny away from him and smiling.

"Be careful," said the little girl.

She ran to join the two boys and they disappeared into the toilet.

"Hum… I'm sorry about..."

"Yeah, yeah," Damian grumbled.

He motioned for Rory to follow him quietly. They walked past the movie theater. When they got to the footbridge and the guard, Damian motioned for Rory to stop.

"Wait till I take care of him," Damian whispered. "Then you go to the door and I'll meet you there. I have friends on the other side waiting for us."

Rory nodded. Damian took a deep breath. A quick glance at Berry told him that he was still there and would cover him if needed.

Damian approached silently. The slaver turned his back and seemed to be admiring the stars. He wasn't wearing any armor. Damian drew his knife. He climbed the stairs. Only a few centimeters more. The slaver turned around. Damian pushed the blade into his body. The man hiccupped with surprise and pain. He looked into Damian's eyes.

Damian felt absolutely nothing. No satisfaction, no sadness. Just, emptiness. The slaver's face took on an expression of incomprehension. For a moment, Damian thought about the fact that the world he had been putted into after his father's escape had finally perverted and defiled him. He had killed so many people and mutant creatures since his escape from the Vault, that the guilt, sadness and self-loathing he had experienced in killing Officer Kendall had evaporated. Killing had become like an everyday routine, a mean to survive in the Wasteland.

He began to doubt that killing Autumn and Eden would make him feel better or would just add two more names to a list that seemed to grow longer day by day.

The little glimmer of life in the slaver's eyes had vanished. His body fell to the bridge. Damian made sure the body didn't make too much noise when it fell and put away his knife. He got up and turned towards Rory. Rory was crouching behind the pool table in front of the movie theater. Damian motioned for him to come over.

Rory got up and walked towards the entrance. Damian saw the movie theater door open. Clover jumped out of the door, still naked, a thin trickle of blood dripping from her temple, holding a 44 Magnum revolver with a scope in her hands. She looked around, her face distorted by rage and pain, and probably by drugs and alcohol, and saw Rory running. She clumsily raised the gun and fired.

_"Damn it! Where she hell does she comes from? "_, sizzled Berry's voice over the radio.

Damian grabbed his rifle and aimed. Clover fired a second shot. The bullet went right through Rory in the middle of his back. He stumbled and laid on the dusty ground.

Berry was faster than Damian. The laser beam from his rifle hit the woman in the chest. She collapsed, a gaping hole in place of her heart.

Outside, Damian could hear laser discharges and a few shots. Cross and Hood were engaging the guards at the entrance to facilitate their escape.

Damian could hear Paradise Falls waking up. Berry's voice was screaming in his ear to run away. He saw the doors to one of the buildings open. Slavers were running outside, armed with hunting rifles, pistols or assault rifles, half-dressed or in their underwear, and were looking around at who was crazy enough to attack them.

Damian grabbed the heavy machine gun and turned it toward the slavers. One of the slavers saw him and screamed, while aiming his rifle at Damian. Damian pulled the trigger.

The roar of the .50 caliber silenced all other noises. Damian's hands and arms vibrated as the gun fired and a new round was fired. He didn't even have to aim. All he had to do was point the gun in the desired direction and fire.

The slavers who had come out of their bunkhouses were caught in the hail of lead and steel that rained on them. Between the flashes of the cannon, Damian could see the cartridges, the size of his hand, snap into place one after the other, and spun, sometimes in the form of a small red projectile, towards the slavers. The power of the weapon was such that the bodies of the slavers were sprayed in a thick red mist, half of their skull blown away or their arms and legs torn off.

The bullets pierced through the bodies, the concrete, the metal, the wood, chopping the slavers as they tried to hide behind their dead comrades or inside the building. Blood mingled with the shards of bone and concrete that flew as the bullets hit the entrance to the barracks.

Damian only released the trigger when the machinegun was out of ammo. He could still feel the muscles in his hands and arms vibrating and his ears buzzing. A shapeless pile of blood and human pieces littered the entrance to the dormitory. Mild groans of pain escaped from it, quickly choked by the scraping concrete of the crumbling walls.

_"Franklin!"_

Damian startled and looked over his shoulder. Berry was still standing on the roof.

"_The entrance is secured."_

"I… I'll meet you there."

Damian looked at the pile of bodies and stepped off the bridge and headed for the entrance. On his way, he stopped to examine Rory. The man was dead. Damian sighed and closed the eyes of Rory before exiting the slaver's fortress.

The two guards he'd argued with earlier were dead. Hood was standing with the three kids and waiting for him. Cross stood slightly to one side, scanning the Wastes with the night vision of her helmet.

Penny turned to Damian and smiled broadly. Her smile faded as she realized that Rory was not there and that he would not come. The little girl looked sad, but, to Damian's surprise, didn't cry.

"What happened inside?" Hood asked.

Berry, who was already there, took a brief look at Damian before answering.

"One of Eulogy's slave-bodyguards killed a slave we tried to save, which awakened the rest of the slavers. Franklin used one of their .50 cal against them," he said. "The bastards didn't see it coming."

Hood cast a preoccupied glance at Damian who was crouched in front of Penny.

"I'm sorry, Penny, but... Rory is..."

The little girl nodded sadly.

"Hey, mungos!

Damian and the others turned to the boys.

"We'd like to go home now."

* * *

**There is no .50 cal MG in vanilla game nor in Paradise Falls, but there is one on the concept art for Fallout 3 so I decided to put it and make Damian use it.**

**Hope you enjoyed and until next time.**


	37. Chapter 37: The tunnel

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well and that you are enjoying the story so far.**

**Good reading.**

* * *

The sun was rising on the horizon when Damian and his companions, accompanied by the three children of Little Lamplight, arrived at the caves. They had rested for a few hours before leaving for Vault 87 and the caves. On the way, the three children had talked a lot with Hood, and Penny seemed to have become Dogmeat's new best friend.

MacCready had arrived at the gates of Little Lamplight and greeted them with an aggressive look, visibly ready to send them a torrent of insults like the last time. His face had calmed for a moment before he took a more serious look when he saw Sammy, Squirrel, and Penny walking alongside the adults.

"All right you can enter. But I'm keeping an eye on you," he spat.

Damian had heard a generator start up and the metal panel blocking access to the rest of the cave had lifted, pulled by cables.

Lanterns and braziers had been installed to provide light throughout the cave.

Sammy, Squirrel and Penny thanked Damian and the others again before joining MacCready. Damian noted that MacCready seemed relieved to see his friends again, even though he tried to keep his tough guy look on his face.

No sooner had they entered that a very strange scene unfolded before their eyes. A teenager was standing in the middle of a group of children, wearing a birthday hat. After wishing him his birthday, the children asked the teenager in unison to leave the cave.

Damian glanced towards Cross and the others, but they were already standing further away, in front of a series of wooden signs. After a last glance at the teenager, who was obviously trying to extend his stay here, Damian joined the others.

"We don't have time to dealwith their stories anymore," Cross said authoritatively. "We have to locate an access to Vault 87."

"Well, I don't think they indicated it here," said Berry while reading the signs.

The signs pointed the way to the different places in the cave. A souvenir shop, a clinic, a school and a _"Great Chamber"_.

"Hey, MacCready!"

Damian had just stopped the young boy coming down from the barricade. The young boy rolled his eyes and sighed before moving towards them.

"What now, mungo?" the boy spat.

"Vault 87, I mean, that bunker next to the caves. You said we could access it from Little Lamplight, right?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Well… Can you give us directions?" Damian asked.

MacCready seemed preoccupied. He looked briefly at the four adults before speaking.

"It's dangerous there, even for mungos. That's where the monsters live."

"The monsters? What kind of monsters?" Berry asked.

"The big ones, ugly and yellow. The ones that look like people but are all wrong."

Berry exchanged glances with the others. The outside of Vault 87 was guarded by the Super Mutants, but it seemed that they had also taken up residence inside and in part of the caves.

"How do we get to the Vault?" Damian asked again.

"You have to go through Murder Pass. It's dangerous, but it's the only way that works."

"What do you mean, _'the only that works'_?" asked Berry.

"Well, there's another door to get to this Vault," MacCready explained. "But the computer's broken and it's been like that since before I was here. Even Joseph can't fix it."

"And, do you know where we can find this Joseph?" Damian asked.

"Do I look like a nanny to you?" MacCready said, returning to his usual insolent tone. "I don't know where he is. Near the door or in the Great Chamber, I don't know. If you want to see him, go ahead, but if you fuck up, I'll put a hole in you."

MacCready walked away grumbling.

"And that's why I hate children," said Berry.

The Lamplight caves were a huge place. A multitude of corridors, casings and large halls, probably stretching for several kilometers underground. Many passages had collapsed, and the children had somehow arranged the rest. They had converted the old huts for souvenirs shop or catering into a shop, clinic or school.

In one large room, the children had set up tables and benches and a wooden counter to turn the place into a canteen.

Damian was first fascinated by the way the children transformed the cave and built a hanging city with pontoons and walkways around a large stone pillar. Then he was struck by the fact that there weren't many children. He had counted only about ten, maybe fifteen, at the most. There were no adults living at Little Lamplight and the children seemed to have a real aversion to them.

"How do they keep their population so... Young? There are no adults here and..." Hood asked.

"Focus on the mission scribe Hood," Cross said.

The young scribe fell silent and continued to move forward. This was also a question that bothered Damian, but he had already planned to answer it later. They had set out to find the one called Joseph. The task was made difficult by the incredible size of the place, but also by the fact that the children were not very cooperative. Any attempt to communicate resulted in insults or the child would run away.

After a while, a child approached them. An African American, wearing a baseball jacket and torn cloth pants, he looked older than the other residents of Little Lamplight.

"I heard you were looking for me," said the boy.

"Is that you, Joseph?" Cross asked.

The boy nodded before continuing.

"Yes. First, I wanted to thank you for saving our friends from the Paradise Falls mungos. Thanks to you, my little sister, Penny, is safe."

Damian and the others smiled and nodded slightly.

"MacCready said you were asking around for me. That you want to go into that Vault?"

"Yes. We were told you knew how to do it," Hood said.

"Well, I know there's access to the Vault, but the computer controlling the door is locked, so I turned it off."

"Could you turn it back on for us?" Hood asked. "I'm pretty familiar with the Vault-Tec computers so I think I can help you."

"Yeah, sure. Just follow me."

Joseph led them through the Great Chamber of Little Lamplight, with its little wooden huts hanging around the stone pillar in the center of the cavity. They arrived in another section of the cave. An overturned wire fence lay on the floor, next to a wooden sign with the Vault-Tec logo, indicating to turn back. In a corner, a steel structure appeared in the darkness.

The structure was rusted and would eventually collapse. The staircase leading inside creaked under their weight. Inside, an old generator, typical of Vault-Tec fallout shelters, occupied the center of the structure. A steel door, stamped with the number _"87"_, next to a terminal, allowed entry into the Vault.

Joseph approached the computer and turned it on. The dust-covered device hummed and the screen emitted a small green light.

"I don't think you'll be able to unlock it, or what you're going to use it for, but it's on," Joseph said.

"Thank you, Joseph," smiled Hood.

The boy left the steel structure and returned to the cave. Hood approached the computer and dusted off on the screen where a security message was displayed. She carefully read it and hummed.

"What's going on?" Cross asked.

Hood looked at her and the others, a slightly confused look on her face. Damian noticed that she did not seem sure about what to answer.

"It looks like the whole Vault is in lockdown for… Whatever reason. But the security of this Vault is far from standard."

"What do you mean?" Cross asked.

"Well, the level of encryption and locking on the terminal we have at the Citadel was high, same for the computer I hacked in Vernon Square. But… The security level on this computer is… Demented."

The Brotherhood members turned to Damian.

"An idea about why this security level is so high?" asked Cross.

"Well," said Damian after a brief silence. "They were supposed to get a G.E.C.K. in here, so I assume that's why the place is extremely secured. That's the only reason I see. Vault 101 had some high security protocol in their terminals and maintenance department, but nothing out of the ordinary. But as Vault 101 pariah, I was not told about everything."

Cross nodded before turning to Hood.

"Do your best," she said.

An hour had passed since they were at the door and that Hood was trying to hack and unlock the terminal. The young scribe was typing on the keyboard attached to the terminal, whispering to herself. Damian had sat against the cold metal wall.

He stared at the door with the number _"87"_ and tried to imagine what he could find inside. The question that came up, and that Cross and the others must have asked themselves, was why the Super Mutants had moved into this Vault.

"Damn it!"

Hood uttered a curse that brought Damian back to reality. The young scribe raised her hands in the air and blew between her teeth in anger.

"What's going on?" asked Berry.

"The computer's gone into lockdown."

"What does that mean?" asked the Knight.

"It means I can't get anything out of it anymore. Vault-Tec's security protocols are very advanced, but here... Even the Citadel terminals were less secure.

Cross approached the gate and inspected it thoroughly.

"Can we open this door any other way?" she asked, turning to Damian.

"Without a control box, impossible," Damian said, shaking his head.

"We could blow the door," said Berry as he got up. "But if the Vault is swarming with Frankensteins, then destroying that door would condemn those children in the caves."

Cross folded and unfolded her fingers in the metal gauntlets of her power-armor.

"That boy, the one with the helmet and the rifle. He talked about another way into the Vault. Looks like it's the only other alternative we have left."

Berry and Hood nodded. Damian followed them as they went after MacCready. They found him in the room that had been converted into a canteen. Sitting on a bench petting one of the many dogs that lived with the children in the caves, his face took an annoyed expression as he saw the adults approaching.

"What now?" he spat, as insolent as usual.

"The door to the Vault doesn't work, but you said something about another way to get there," Cross said.

"Murder Pass. It's dangerous, even I avoid it."

"We have to go, it's very important," said Damian.

"Hey, if you want to die mungo, that's your problem," said MacCready.

The young boy put his helmet back on his head and got up, reluctantly, before going down a hallway, Damian and the others following him.

A large metal barricade blocked access to a portion of the cave. Two children stood guard, looking nervous. Damian recognized Sammy, and a little girl in a pink dress with a ribbon in her red hair. She glanced at Damian and the members of the Brotherhood with a haughty look and gave a murderous look at MacCready.

MacCready did not seem bothered by it and looked at the two children for a few second and looked over his shoulder towards Damian and the others.

"Open the door," he said.

Sammy and the little girl looked at each other for a moment before activating two levers. A counterweight, made of a large stone in a net of ropes, came down, and a thick metal panel rose, revealing a gut sinking deeper into the ground.

"Thank you," Damian said, turning to MacCready.

The boy just grumbled something. Cross checked her laser pistol and grabbed her huge sledgehammer on her back. Out of the corner of his eye, Damian saw Hood shudder. Berry also seemed a little uncomfortable. He had the feeling that the Knight must envy Cross, who was wearing a power armor, while he was wearing a simple outfit, making him look like a mercenary or an inhabitant of the Wasteland.

Damian took one last look at the barricade. The look in the eyes of MacCready and the children made him shudder. He felt as if the children were watching a group of convicts going to the gallows with no hope of escape.

The group entered and heard the barricade close behind them.

After a few yards, the hose widened a little and they arrived at a crossing to the right where sandbags had been piled up. Dogmeat, who was walking alongside Damian, began to growl.

Cross waved to Berry. The latter nodded and silently approached the crossing. He glanced into the tunnel and, while looking inside, made several hand gestures to Cross.

"What's going on?" Damian whispered.

"Super Mutants. Two of them. Heavily armed," Cross translated.

Damian saw Berry set his laser rifle to maximum power. Cross grabbed her laser pistol and approached Berry. They exchanged glances and, like one man, they stood up from behind their shelter and opened fire. A shout told Damian that one of the mutants had just been hit. He advanced towards the sandbags.

The body of the Super Mutant laid on a small wooden bridge suspended over a hollow in the rock. On the other side, another Mutant was trying to hide from the heavy fire it was taking. Damian heard a scream, then silence. He looked over the sandbag wall.

The two mutants were dead, their skin around the laser hits burned off. Below the bridge was another part of the cave, a small wooden structure on stilts. Part of it had collapsed and in the rocky ground, the Super Mutants had installed their strange decorative metal piles.

On the other side of the bridge, an opening, leading to a tunnel out of sight of the small group, and a series of wooden planks and panels, led to the cave below.

"Hood, you stay back with Franklin. Berry, you follow me," said the Star Paladin Cross.

She stepped out onto the bridge. Her heavy power armor making the damaged wooden planks creak and Damian could hear the ropes stretching under the tension.

"RPG!"

A whistle reached Damian's ears and then a loud bang. A heat trail passed right by Cross. Shards of stones flew from the cave wall and Damian felt his whole body vibrate. The bridge swayed and the Star Paladin fell heavily from the bridge.

Berry fired several shots at the wooden structure. Out of the corner of his eye, Damian saw Cross, standing up, her power armor having absorbed the shock of the fall. He raised his weapon and lined up his shots with those of the Knight. The wooden panels that served as walls to the stilted huts shattered and small pieces fell to the ground.

Cross rushed in the huts and climbed in, using the wooden panels serving as staircases. Berry and Damian stopped shooting. The next moment a huge yellow mass went through one of the walls and crashed down, leaving a thick trail of blood and viscera in its wake.

"Let's go," Berry said after reloading his rifle.

He rushed to the bridge, followed by Damian and the young scribe.

The tunnel on the other side of the bridge was a dead end. The huts seemed to have been there for a long time. The few pieces of furniture present were overturned or destroyed. On mattresses on the floor, or wedged under a shelf, small skeletons, human. Damian realized with horror that they were children skeletons and that many of their bones were broken or crushed. The little corpses watched them walk through their old homes, with their empty orbits.

Cross stood at the entrance of another tunnel. She was taking fire from a small group of Super Mutants. Damian noticed a black viscous liquid escaping from the top of her huge metal club. On the left, a cavity, reinforced by sandbags, where a mutant was taking cover. At the end of the tunnel, two more of these abominations were shooting at the Star Paladin.

A bullet ricocheted off the shoulder pad of her power armor and lodged in the ceiling, dropping small pieces of stone. The shooting lasted only a few moments. The Super Mutant's weapon in the cavity jammed and he left his cover, charging the small group of humans to engage hand-to-hand combat. Caught between the imprecise fire of his fellow mutants and the coordinated laser discharges of the Knight and Cross, he was hit in several places and fell to the ground in a final gurgling sound.

The other two mutants joined him a few seconds later when Damian touched the grenade that one of the monsters was about to throw.

"If they keep using explosives, they'll bury us alive," Berry said, dusting off his jacket and putting a new microfusion cell in his weapon.

They advanced in the cave for several minutes. The place where the mutant had taken shelter earlier was actually a tunnel, leading deeper underground. Cross, enclosed in her imposing power armor, had in places difficulty to walk and her shoulders or elbows scraped the stone walls.

After a few minutes, Damian illuminated large steel pylons with his Pip-Boy light. The tunnel divided in two. The left part ended in a dead end and was for some unknown reason protected by a booby-trap, the front part of a brahmin attached to a chain and connected to a trigger wire.

The second tunnel opened onto a large room. A broken fence, had been installed there, probably to delimit the part of the caves allowed to tourists from the one reserved for Vault-Tec.

"Looks like we found the Vault," said Berry.

They crossed the fence when the sound of a wire breaking resounded, followed by that of a small metal object falling to the ground. The next moment, an explosion shook the ground.

Damian opened his eyes. Dogmeat was above him and licked his face cheerfully. He stood up coughing and spat out the dust he had in his mouth. His ears were buzzing, and every part of his body seemed to have been trampled on. He looked around and saw a leg a next to him. The limb was severed at the tibia. The buzzing stopped and he looked around. Cross got up with difficulty. Part of her armor was damaged and showed signs of shrapnel impact. Hood was crouching near Berry.

Lying a few meters from Damian, the Knight was staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open. His chest was torn open and his lower body mutilated. His left leg was missing, torn off at the tibia and his right foot was missing.

The young scribe's lips were moving but no sound seemed to come out. She was gently shaking the Knight's body and managed to whisper his name. Cross approached the corpse and, with a quick gesture, tore off Berry's identification plates and slipped them into a satchel on her belt.

"Let's get going," she said in a monotone way.

"But... What... We can't...," stammered Hood looking at her.

The Star Paladin grabbed the young scribe's arm and shook her violently. Damian thought she was going to rip her arm off with her power armor.

"Scribe Hood, we're in a combat zone. You've been trained for this kind of situation. Knight Berry is dead. We have to leave him there and continue the mission. That is an order."

Hood may have been a scribe attached to Rothchild and spent most of her time between computers, research reports and books, but she was still a full member of the Brotherhood and had to follow orders.

Damian wanted to take a few moments to give Hood time to deal with the death of his companion. He, too, felt affected, but Cross put the mission ahead of everything else. He found the Star Paladin's decision strange, as he hardly imagined any soldier willing to leave the bodies of their own on a battlefield, but he did not say anything, thinking that they would take Berry's body back with them once they retrieved the G.E.C.K., that if they made it in and out of Vault 87 alive.

"Berry knew the risks," Cross continued in a more compassionate tone. "We must complete our mission or his death will have been in vain."

Hood wanted to protest. She closed her eyes and nodded slowly. Damian wanted to comfort her, guessing that her relationship with the Knight was maybe more than a brother/sister in arms relation, but he knew from experience that nothing could soothe the pain she was enduring.

Regretfully, Hood took her eyes off Berry's body and got up. The tunnels meandered for several meters. The ground had been laid out and they were walking on cobblestones. They hadn't encountered Super Mutants since Berry's death.

Dogmeat walked ahead, sniffing the ground and the air. From the booby-trapped tunnel, everyone paid close attention to the ground looking for a trigger wire or even a mine buried under a small pile of rocks.

Damian wondered who had set a trap in these caves. The Super Mutants had proved to be smart enough to use computers or to set up ambushes, as he had seen in his rescue of the inhabitants of Big Town or in Reilly's story. But it was unlikely that these monstrous giants had set the traps in this location. The other explanation was that the inhabitants of Little Lamplight had set these traps to delay the Super Mutants who had swept into their caves and that by bad luck, none of these abominations had triggered the traps before.

The cave was gradually shrinking, and the stone had given way to steel walls. A sliding door of Vault-Tec manufacturing was facing them. Cross pressed the switch and the door slid in a metallic squeak.

A room full of rusted old metal desks, destroyed computers and metal crates containing various electronic devices that were no longer in use laid behind the door.

Damian noticed a circular plate on the floor near one of the two pillars supporting the room. The mechanism was connected to a string of grenades suspended from the ceiling by a small cable. The trap was childishly simple, and he had no problem disarming it and retrieved the grenades and put them in his bag.

"Franklin," said Cross as she approached him. You are the only one of us who has ever been in a Vault. Can you give us a description of the place?"

Damian thought for a moment. He knew Vault 101 like the back of his hand, from the living quarters to the common areas to the maintenance rooms. However, there was no indication that Vault 87 would be organized in the same way as Vault 101 and that it would be facility like Vault 112.

"If we assume that Vault-Tec built all its Vault in the same way, then..."

The door to the room where they were standing opened. A Super Mutant, bigger and uglier than the others, stood in the opening. It uttered a roar and brandished a laser rifle. Damian dove behind one of the pillars. Cross knocked over one of the computer banks and took cover behind it. The mutant fired.

Dogmeat jumped towards the Super Mutant and passed between its legs. The dog turned around and stuck its fangs into the Mutant's calf. The Mutant wobbled a little and shook its leg to free itself. He raised its head and saw Cross. Her heavy steel club sliced through the air and crashed into the Super Mutant's belly. The Mutant coughed up blood and collapsed to the ground in a scream of pain. Cross dropped her giant sledgehammer on the Super Mutant's skull. Stuck between the ground and the huge club, the Super Mutant's head burst into a crack of bone, spilling pieces of flesh and brains on the ground.

Damian bent down from behind his cover. Cross wiped the end of her melee weapon against the Super Mutant's loincloth. Dogmeat carefully sniffed the corpse. Damian turned his head and saw Hood leaning against a pillar. Her pants were torn, and she clenched her jaw with a grimace.

The laser beam had hit her leg and burned it to the third degree between the knee and the ankle. She tried to stand up, and she uttered a small hiccup of pain. The injury seemed to cause her great pain.

Damian helped her to sit on one of the desks and carefully inspected her leg. He had seen this kind of injury before on one of his maintenance coworkers in the Vault and still remembered the screams he heard when the man had burned his hand with a blowtorch.

In Hood's case, the young scribe needed a doctor and had to avoid using her leg at all costs.

Cross approached after securing the tunnel where the Super Mutant had come from. She looked at Hood's wound and sighed. Berry was dead and Hood was out. At this rate, this whole mission would end in their deaths.

"You have to take her back to the Citadel," Damian said, looking for a Stimpak in his satchel so he could ease Hood's pain a little.

"No, I'm fine," the young scribe managed to articulate with a forced smile.

"You have a third-degree burn on the leg, that means that your skin, the tissue and the endings of the entire burned area are destroyed. The Stimpak will give you relief for a while, but it won't save your leg."

Hood closed her eyes and held back an expression of pain when Damian injected the Stimpak into her thigh.

"You need to take back to the Citadel or to Little Lamplight to be examined," Damian repeated, turning his head towards Cross.

He helped Hood to his feet.

"I'll go on my own," he said, letting Cross take the young scribe.

"No, way. I'm not letting you go alone in there," objected the Star Paladin. "It's..."

"Dogmeat, come."

Damian snapped his fingers and the dog followed him. He disappeared into the tunnel that led to Vault 87. After a few meters, he came to a metal door. He glanced towards Dogmeat who sniffed at the door before sitting down. Damian took a deep breath and entered, his mind focused on the search for the G.E.C.K. and whatever horrors he would find inside.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**


	38. Chapter 38: A better future, underground

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well. In today's chapter, Damian and Dogmeat enter Vault 87 in search of a G.E.C.K.**

**What will they find inside ?**

* * *

Damian checked his assault rifle magazine. He did the same with his pistol and quickly inspected the pockets of his belt to count his ammunition.

He glanced towards Dogmeat. The dog sat next to him and sniffed the steel door leading into Vault 87.

Damian leaned against the wall and opened the door. The door slid open with a long squeaking sound. A foul odor escaped from inside the Vault. Dogmeat sneezed several times and scratched his nose with his front paws. The smell was probably even stronger for him.

The only source of light inside the Vault was the emergency lighting at the base of the walls and above the doors. Damian tilted the beam of his Pip-Boy in front of him.

The floor was littered with human corpses. Skeletons, wearing remnants of vault suits, gowns or rags. Bloody pieces of flesh ended up rotting among the bones. Damian shivered when he realized that some of the skeletons were those of children.

He felt his stomach turn and quickly tied his bandana around his nose and mouth, hoping that the unbearable smell of putrefaction in the corridor would be alleviated. Damian entered the Vault, being careful not to step on the human remains around him.

The hallway in front of him led to a room, similar to the one where Hood had been injured. To the left, a staircase leading underground. Damian had no idea exactly where he was. Since he knew the G.E.C.K. was in Vault 87, he hadn't stopped thinking about where it would be stored.

Two possibilities seemed possible to him. As a technological marvel, capable of creating life from scratch, the G.E.C.K. would be locked up in the Overseer's office. If Vault 87 Overseer had taken his mission, whatever it was, literally, then the G.E.C.K. would be in there.

The other possibility, more likely, was that the G.E.C.K. was in a specially designed room somewhere in the Vault. All that remained to be done was to find this room and avoid the Super Mutants and the radiation that would invade the corridors of the Vault.

Dogmeat seemed to have become accustomed to the atrocious smell that floated in the air and stretched out his ears, picking up sounds that were inaudible to Damian.

Damian looked at the walls around him but saw nothing but rust, moisture and traces of blood. He had hoped to find a map of the place as he had in Vault 101. Each new section had a detailed plan, hung near the entrances. There was nothing here. Nothing but an oppressive sense of unease and the smell of death and fear.

His only option was to explore until he had a vague idea of where he was. He would then have to locate the Overseer's office and its terminal, which, if it was still working, would tell him where to go to find the G.E.C.K. and bring it back to the Citadel.

Dogmeat didn't seem to smell or hear anything dangerous. Damian took a deep breath and searched for the courage to enter the Vault and move forward. Despite his mask on his face, the smell entered his nostrils and made his head spin. He walked down the stairs, slowly and quietly. The silence around him was heavy. He felt as if the sound of his boots on the steel steps resonated throughout the entire Vault.

The hallway at the bottom of the stairs went in two directions. The door on the left led into a collapsed tunnel, dug out of the cave, where, strangely enough, a mannequin and a wooden crate full of objects and books had been placed. The smell was a little more bearable here.

The door on the right led him to a small room, occupied by tables and a rusty computer, destroyed data banks and various electronic or listening devices dating from before the war.

Damian tried to turn on the terminal there. The screen gradually turned on and the computer began to hum. It belonged to a man named Peter Stevens, probably a former resident of Vault 87, assigned to maintenance.

Damian tried to open the various files, but most of them were corrupted and only displayed an error message. The only usable files did not tell Damian anything about his location in the Vault. The only thing he learned was that this man, Peter Stevens, was upset by his son's death and had been prescribed painkillers by the Vault's physician after hearing hallucinations of children laughing.

The last entry made no sense. It was as if the man had typed his thoughts in incoherent and disorderly ways, without bothering to put spaces or make his words understandable.

Damian cast a nervous glance at Dogmeat who was sniffing the ground. Damian turned off the terminal and searched the room without finding anything useful. A second door allowed him to leave and he entered a room, only occupied by a large reactor. He was probably on the other side of the door blocked by the terminal. Damian approached one of the steel walls and stuck his ear to it.

He didn't know if it was his mind trying to prove him right or if the little noises he heard were those of children talking and playing.

Now that he had a clearer idea of where he was, the plans of Vault 101 and its maze of corridors came back to his mind. If Vault 87 was built the same way, then he should be able to get to the Atrium and the Living Quarters, and then to the Overseer's office.

He went up the stairs and entered the next room. Radroaches of various sizes were swarming over a remnant of flesh, and in one corner of the room, a pile of skeletons and bones were rotting away. The walls of the cave where the Vault was located could be seen through large windows. A strange, even unhealthy concept. The few people who had been able to find refuge in the Vault just before the Great War would probably have preferred to see through these large windows, images of large green field or a seashore. The illusion of seeing a landscape untouched by death and atomic destruction was probably preferable to the sight of a stone wall, a brutal reminder that the residents of the Vault would have to live the rest of their days in a cold, impersonal bunker without ever seeing daylight again.

For Damian, it didn't make sense or matter. The only green landscapes he had ever seen were those in the picture books of his childhood and his only close sight of a coastline was that of the banks of the Potomac River and its radioactive wildlife.

He had certainly felt an immense sense of happiness when he could finally see the sky, the sun and the night he had spent at the Citadel, outside observing the stars and the moon, trying to think of something other than the death of his father and his desire for revenge. But these things, unlike the rural, urban and coastal landscapes, had probably not undergone drastic and radical changes since the bombs fell.

Dogmeat growled. Damian turned around and pointed his rifle at the door. He heard heavy footsteps and a hoarse voice. He listened and managed to pick up some bits of conversation.

"...green stuff. It takes more like us to stop the humans."

"Then we need more humans. To make them like us."

"Stupid Fawkes says the humans will come to us one day. To take the green stuff."

"Bloody humans."

Damian walked down a corridor with his gun aimed. He flattened himself against the wall and slid to the corner before looking. At the top of the stairs, two Super Mutants were talking. Damian could also hear others walking further up the stairs.

He was beginning to see a little more clearly. He had found it strange that the Super Mutants, which he thought were the result of radiation, still seemed to be present in the Capital Wasteland, despite the many clashes between them, Brotherhood, the Raiders and basically anyone else. Apparently, it was not high radiation exposure that caused these changes, but rather contact with something _"green"_. In other words, if the Super Mutants could reproduce in this way, then it explained their proliferation in the ruins of D.C. and the surrounding area.

The two Super Mutants did not seem to want to move and continued to chat, or rather to emit laughter and boast of having killed the most humans. Damian switched his rifle to automatic mode and installed his silencer at the end of the barrel. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he jumped out of the corner of the wall.

The first mutant collapsed to the ground, hit in the temple. The second mutant made a gesture to grab a piece of studded wood but collapsed in turn. A multitude of footsteps resounded at the top of the stairs. Damian saw the skull of a Super Mutant appear and fired. A large mass collapsed forward and tumbled down the stairs, spilling a long trail of blood in its wake.

Damian retreated, taking Dogmeat with him. He crouched down by the door and pointed his rifle at the incoming Super Mutant. The shape of the first mutant appeared at the other end of the corridor and Damian fired. He heard a cry of pain. He fired again but the bullet ricocheted off the wall next to the mutant who took cover against the wall.

Dogmeat leapt towards the Super Mutant. Damian tried to stop the dog, but it was faster. He heard Dogmeat bite the Super Mutant in the leg. Damian ran across the hallway. When he got to the corner, he saw the Mutant fighting with the dog. Dogmeat avoided a rifle butt and jumped to grab the arm of the Super Mutant.

The Super Mutant struggled, and Damian saw a large piece of bloody flesh tearing off its arm. Dogmeat fell back a little further and Damian took the opportunity to finish off the Mutant with a shot in the chest.

Damian raised his rifle to the top of the stairs and listened. There was no sound coming from him. He turned towards Dogmeat. The dog snorted and gave his master a satisfied look, its jaw stained with blood and the tongue hanging to the side, panting.

Damian climbed the stairs and arrived in front of a second reactor. He took another staircase and came to a sliding door. Before opening it, he checked his charger. If the Super Mutants ever came in force against him, he could use the stairs and doors as a bottleneck, and as a last resort, he had a few grenades with him. Dogmeat could also help him in combat as it had done before and make a good diversion, but the dog didn't have any armor capable of stopping a bullet. If this eventuality were to happen, there was only hope that the Super Mutants were poor shooters or that Damian was fast enough to eliminate them beforehand.

Damian activated the gate. He was in another reactor room. He approached the sliding door and activated it. He saw the legs of a Super Mutant disappear around the corner from the stairwell. Damian waited a few seconds. He heard Dogmeat growled and the Super Mutant's footsteps coming closer. Damian stayed in the dark and aimed his rifle. The Super Mutant began to descend the stairs. It was holding what looked like a bloody human leg in its hands and Damian heard unpleasant chewing sounds.

The Super Mutant's head finally appeared, wearing a leather aviator's cap, its mouth overflowing with pieces of meat and blood. Damian fired. The snap of the shot, muffled by the silencer, gave way to an organic noise as the bullet penetrated the mutant's skull. It collapsed on the stairs with a metallic sound.

The stairs led Damian to the atrium, identical to that of Vault 101. Above him, Damian could hear the footsteps of the Super Mutants on the upper catwalk. The light from the emergency lighting, combined with the smell of dead bodies floating in the air, the human remains on the floor, and the nets of meat and bones hanging from the ceiling, made the place look grim and gloomy.

Damian tried to listen to the footsteps of the Super Mutants and count how many he could see in front of him. He could feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. All his senses were alert. Damian stuck his head through the opening and tried to discern, despite the dim light, the humanoid silhouettes of the mutants.

Then an idea came to him. He rummaged through his bag for a few moments and pulled out the bottlecap mine that Moira had given him as a reward for his trip to Minefield. He activated the detonator and threw the object into the center of the atrium. He stepped back down the stairs and listened.

As the Vault-Tec Sandwich Box hit the floor, Damian could hear grunts and shouts coming from all over the Atrium. He was aware that getting noticed by the Super Mutants was a very risky idea, but he saw no way to sneak past.

Several Super Mutants rushed around the area where Damian had launched the mine. Dogmeat growled softly. Damian held him by the collar, but the Super Mutants made so many noises that it was impossible to hear the dog growls.

There was a total of six Super Mutants in the Atrium. One of them grabbed the mine and picked it up. He called out to the others and showed them the explosive.

Damian waited until they were all assembled and activated the detonator. A small cloud of dust appeared where the mutants were. Numerous shards of metal, bottlecaps, bolts and small steel balls flew in all directions, tearing skin and muscles, ripping flesh off and sinking into walls and floors.

Damian released Dogmeat who entered the Atrium and rushed towards the Super Mutants lying on the ground. He turned around and looked at them before returning to his master. Damian entered in his turn, watching for the heavy footsteps of a pack of Super Mutants.

The corpses of the Super Mutants were horribly mutilated. Parts of their jaws and skulls were missing. The one who had the mine in his hands had both arms torn off and his face was nothing but a slurry of flesh and blood with small pieces of steel and Nuka-Cola bottlecaps sticking out.

The Atrium had suffered heavily from the ravages of time and the occupation of the Super Mutants. Strangely, Damian could not find any room dedicated to rest or relaxation for the residents. All of them were storage rooms or laboratories and unlike Vault 101, there was no circular window that allowed the Overseer to watch the Vault from his office.

Damian went upstairs. Dogmeat growled. A door slid open and a Super Mutant came out. Damian dove to the side, narrowly avoiding a laser beam. He heard Dogmeat yelp. He pivoted and fired a burst towards the Super Mutant. The Super Mutant staggered and collapsed on his back. Another door opened. Damian slid his rifle and fired. A thud told him that whatever had just come through the door had slumped to the ground and had just died.

Damian jumped up on his legs. He was beginning to regret using the mine. All the mutants in Vault 87 knew he was there, and they would come to him one by one. Damian looked nervously at the various doors.

After a few moments, nothing had happened. No other mutant had come. Dogmeat was standing next to him. Damian turned on his Pip-Boy's lamp and pointed it to his dog. It didn't seem to be hurt, but Damian noticed that the fur on its neck had been burned a little.

He gave a quick pat on his dog's head before moving on. The hallway on the other side of the Atrium went both left and right. On the right, Damian saw a staircase. He decided to explore to the left first.

Another room occupied by a reactor. Damian stumbled upon a working terminal and turned it on. The various usable files were from the engineering section of the Vault. Apparently, the residents had complained about problems with the water filtration and electrical system.

Damian frowned. He found it strange that the Vault had experienced difficulties with its electrical system, given the many reactors Damian had found. Vault-Tec reactors were to provide energy for years without maintenance, sometimes centuries. Sure, they could sometimes dysfunction and Damian knew that back in Vault 101, they sometimes had energy shortages lasting a few hours or days, but, there was only two reactors in Vault 101, while in Vault 87, Damian had already walked past four of them.

_"Seems that Vault 87 had an experimental section that was requiring a lot of power," _Damian thought as he read the file on the screen. _"At least now, I know where to look for the G.E.C.K."_.

He moved on to the next file, hoping to learn more. He let out a sigh. The message mentioned a malfunction in the radiation purge in the G.E.C.K.'s room. If the miracle device emitted radiation, Damian would turn into a ghoul before he could leave the Vault and return to the Citadel.

Damian put his hand over his face. He opened the last entrance to the terminal. He had to read the message on the screen twice in a row to make sure he understood it. The author had written that the experimental section of Vault 87 was responsible for his wife's death and that this was not an isolated case. He had also written that serious things were happening in the experimental section.

A shiver ran down Damian's spine. Several gloomy hypotheses were beginning to germinate in his mind. Damian chased them away with a flick of his head. He had to stay focused.

He went back to the Atrium and followed the corridor before climbing a staircase and arriving upstairs. Part of the corridor was blocked by lockers and tables, set up as a makeshift barricade. Damian walked down the corridor. He came close to a window, with traces of bloody hands. He approached to look.

The window shattered and the huge hand of a Super Mutant sprang up and grabbed Damian. The Mutant dragged him inside the room and threw him against a computer console. Stunned Damian, felt the Super Mutant grab him again and throw him this time into a corner of the room. Damian hit a table with a computer on it and it fell to the floor.

Dogmeat jumped on the Mutant and stuck its fangs in the mutant's calves. Damian drew his pistol and fired. The Super Mutant cried out in pain and fell backwards. Damian sighed. Good thing the Super Mutant chose to fly him around the room instead of crushing his head.

The room he was in looked like a laboratory. Vials, test tubes and chemistry utensils were gathering dust on one of the tables or had broken on the floor when the Super Mutant attacked him. A safe occupied part of the wall, and the rest of the room was occupied by lockers and computer equipment.

Damian listened for a moment, his gun ready to fire, and approached the terminal on the floor. In the fall, the terminal had lit up. Damian put it back on the table and began to look at the files and messages. The fall had damaged it, but it was still possible to read what was on the screen.

"Any Vault member marked as deceased by the special EEP section will be tagged and coded in the computer as an unexplained or undefined death.", read out loud Damian. "What the hell does that mean?"

Damian selected the next file. The document that appeared had a series of codes in the header. Damian scrolled through the document and a list of names followed by a date and an alphanumeric code appeared before his eyes. Almost all of them had the same code _"UD000"_, relating to an undefined death. Damian scrolled through the list.

"What the hell were they doing in that Vault? Almost all the residents died right after the Great War in this EEP section," Damian whispered.

Damian walked out the small laboratory. He climbed up a staircase and through a sliding door. He found himself in a hallway. A door on his right led him into a storage room where he could get a magazine for his assault rifle. He kept moving forward. Another door, connected to a terminal, was on the left, as well as a large bay window. Damian approached cautiously.

He jumped back and aimed his rifle at the window. Lying on a surgery table, a deformed corpse, vaguely identifiable as human, stared at him through the window. Its right leg was deformed, the bones protruded in places and its ankle was bent at an unlikely angle. Its upper body was disproportionately out of proportion to the rest. An imposing chest, broad shoulders and a neck resembling that of a brahmin. Its right arm was the same size as the body and its face, resembling the one of a Super Mutant was frozen in an expression of terror and horror.

Damian noticed that the thing was wearing a torn vault suit. He took his eyes off the abomination.

What he had begun to imagine in his head turned out to be true. The Super Mutant's discussion of this _"green stuff"_, the presence of a secret experiment room in the Vault, the suspicions of the head of the engineering department, the impressive list of deaths classified as unexplained, the directives of the medical department, and now this test room and this horrible corpse. The Super Mutants were created in Vault 87 and were born just after the Great War. Contrary to what everyone thought, they were not the result of a mutation due to radiation, but of a two-century-old scientific experiment orchestrated by Vault-Tec.

Vault-Tec had knowingly planned everything. Damian thought that Vault 112 was just a whim of Braun and that he had diverted the purpose of the Vault to satisfy his thirst for power in order to become the God of a new world. Here, Vault 87 had been specially designed to take in residents when bombs fell on the Earth and use them as guinea pigs to create God-knows-what.

Damian's thoughts slipped to Vault 101 and Amata. If the leaders of Vault-Tec had designed the Vaults as giant laboratories and used the residents as guinea pigs for experiments, what did they have planned for Vault 101? Were descendants of Vault-Tec still observing them, hidden in another uncharted bunker, right next to the corridors of vault 101?

He had to get out of here. Find the G.E.C.K. and give it to the Brotherhood and return to Vault 101 to Amata out of there. The Wasteland was a dangerous place, but it seemed that Vaults were even more dangerous if Vault-Tec decided to turn them into giant laboratory.

Damian was pulled from his thoughts by a growl. He turned around and saw Dogmeat with his lips rolled up. Damian prepared his assault rifle. He heard a rubbing sound, as if something was sliding on the floor. A Centaur appeared at the corner of the corridor. Damian fired but the Centaur began to spit out a brown, foul-smelling bile before it collapsed. Damian heard his Pip-Boy sizzling. The liquid spattered by the Centaur reached his armor. His Pip-Boy's Geiger counter went crazy. Damian dropped his rifle and grabbed his knife. The radioactive bile was also corrosive. He cut the straps of his armor and kicked it away.

He stepped back and palpated his body. The liquid had not penetrated his armor and his Geiger counter was no longer making any sound. Unfortunately, his armor was now unusable. Damian sighed and picked up his rifle and continued to move forward.

The corridor seemed endless. On either side were doors connected to terminals, with windows, leading to a test room. Some were empty, others were occupied by the corpse of a Centaur, and others had one of those abominable corpses, all more deformed and terrifying than the others.

Damian entered a laboratory. The terminal taught him a little more and confirmed the terrible truth about Vault 87. It was one thing for human beings to kill each other in a war, or to fight over food, water or shelter. This had been the case many times in the History of Mankind and was still common in parts of the Wasteland. But what madness could have seized these people to experiment, what they called _"FEV"_, the Forced Evolutionary Virus, causing mutations, on human subjects. Probably the same madness that led Vault-Tec to build giant laboratories and camouflage them as fallout shelters. Damian thought back to some of his classes in the Vault. In the end, it was just a simple repetition of History. The experiments at Vault 87 were nothing more than a continuation of the sadistic tests that Nazi doctors had performed on prisoners of war and a defined segment of the population during World War II. Inoculating a virus that mutated the human body and rejoicing in the results was just as crazy and despicable as dissecting living men and women and marveling at the sight of a functioning digestive system. Surely, they all thought they were participating in science advance and regarded their test subjects as disposable piles of flesh and bones, not human beings.

The doctor at Vault 87 seemed to welcome some of the test advances, noting with pride the physical transformations the residents had undergone without their knowledge. All those who worked for Vault-Tec were nothing but a bunch of fools who wanted to play God and play with science with contempt for human life. Another proof that human beings and their civilization should probably have disappeared during the Great War.

Damian left the laboratory and continued walking down the corridor until he reached a fork. A hissing and sizzling sound was heard in the corridor, followed by a guttural voice.

_"You! Over there! Please, come!"_

Damian was startled and turned around, looking for where the voice came from, pointing his gun in all directions. Dogmeat walked down the corridor and approached a test room.

"_The room on your left."_, said the voice.

Damian followed Dogmeat, who had stood up and leaned against the glass. He approached slowly. A Super Mutant appeared on the other side. Damian jumped back and pointed his rifle at it. The Super Mutant was staring at Dogmeat, stunned. He was wearing a torn vault suit. It raised its head and saw the rifle, and Damian standing behind it.

The mutant scratched its head. It slowly approached the window of the test room and bent down until it stuck its face against the glass. Damian thought he saw a look of surprise and incomprehension on the mutant's face. At the slightest suspicious gesture from the mutant, he would empty his magazine on it. The Super Mutant stepped back and turned its head to its left. It raised its arm and Damian heard the same hissing and crackling that had preceded the voice.

_"Are you... Are you really here?" _the Super Mutant asked. _"I'm not going crazy, am I?"_

Damian raised an eyebrow. He looked around and lowered his gun a little. He noticed an intercom next to the window. He pressed the button and approached the microphone.

"Uh... Hello?" he said without knowing what else to say.

He heard the Super Mutant breathe a sigh of relief.

_"Are you a pure human being?"_

Damian hesitated for a few seconds before answering.

"Yes, I'm human, but what are you?"

_"Me? What am I?"_ the Mutant asked sarcastically.

"_You're a Super Mutant, but... You seem... Different."_

Through the window, Damian saw the Super Mutant looking at him.

_"Forgive me, but I'm not used to that kind of joke, or discussion that doesn't involve grunting or hitting other people."_

Damian could not believe it. The Super Mutant expressed itself with that raucous and deep voice, specific to its kind, but its diction was almost perfect and its vocabulary very rich. He was used to hearing other Super Mutants screaming, grunting or shouting unintelligible words, but here, he was looking at a Super Mutant that was capable of having a conversation with a human and, even more surprisingly, had not already tried to rip his head off.

_"My name is Fawkes,"_ the Mutant continued. _"I am indeed what you call a 'Super Mutant', but if you don't mind, I prefer the term Meta-humans. I've lived here, in this... Cage, all my life."_

Damian remembered hearing the two Super Mutants in the reactor room mention someone named Fawkes. He had no idea it could be a Super Mutant.

"Your friends seem to think you're a mutant. Quite ironic," Damian said.

_"Yes, ironic indeed." _Fawkes replied.

Damian saw the Super Mutant sketch the nearest thing to a smile.

_"Please forgive my surprise, but I didn't expect to find someone so cultured and intelligent here. It's a rather pleasant change, I must say." _Fawkes continued.

_"That makes two of us,"_ thought Damian.

"_But I guess I shouldn't be surprised. After all, it was only a matter of time before someone would come looking for the G.E.C.K."_, the Super Mutant said.

"The G.E.C.K.?" Damian repeated. You know where it is?"

Fawkes seemed a little surprised. He looked at Damian for a moment through the window before answering.

_"Yes,"_ he replied. _"I know what it is, I know where it is and I know how to get to it. And I can help you access it."_

"Help me? Why do you want to help me?" Damian asked a little suspiciously.

_"Because you can help me too."_

Fawkes pointed to the room where he was standing with a great gesture of his hand.

_"Get me out of here! I can't take it! I can't take it anymore! I don't even know how long I've been locked in here!"_

The Super Mutant's tone was almost begging.

_"If you set me free, I'll get the G.E.C.K. back for you."_

"Why would I need your help to get it?" asked Damian who already knew the answer.

_"Because the room where the G.E.C.K. is located, is bathed in radiation, and I doubt you'll survive it for long, unlike me."_

Damian hesitated. He looked around again and pressed the intercom button.

"_If I get you out of this room, how do I know you're not going to try to kill me or get the hell out?"_ he asked.

_"I understand your reluctance to help someone of my kind." _replied Fawkes. _"But you'll have to take my word for it. I could have also not warned you about the radiation in the G.E.C.K. room."_

Fawkes was right. Even if Damian already knew about it from the Vault's engineering department terminal, the Super Mutant could have never mentioned this obstacle.

Damian pressed the intercom button. He took a deep breath before answering.

"All right, then. How do I get you out of here?"

Fawkes let out a sigh of relief.

"_On your right is a maintenance room at the end of the corridor. Once inside, you'll find the medical fire control. If you sound the alarm, the doors to the test rooms will open. But beware, I'm not the only one locked in these cells."_

Damian walked away. He didn't like the idea of having to release a Super Mutant, no matter how polite and friendly it was. He walked across the hallway, where there were many test rooms. As he passed by, he glanced out some of the windows. Centaurs slid across the floors of some of them, surrounded by fresh human corpses. In one of them, one of those deformed mutants stood motionless. It turned its head towards Damian. With its jaw open, its eyes wide open, it stared at Damian without moving.

Damian stepped back, staring at the thing in the cell. He moved to the side and a shiver ran down his back when he saw the huge eyes of the abomination following him.

One of the cells contained a human. Damian approached the glass and tapped it with his fingers. The prisoner, a man with red hair, wearing a t-shirt and fatigues, was sitting against the wall and did not move. Damian started again but the man did not react.

Damian arrived in front of the maintenance room. Two generators were intermittently generating electric arcs. After another hesitation, he activated the fire alarm. A bell rang in the Vault. He returned to the corridor. The Centaurs had come out and were slowly sliding towards the deformed mutant who had also left its cell. With incredible speed, the monster rushed at the Centaurs and went after them, tearing off their heads, limbs, and long tongues.

It turned towards Damian and began to run towards him. Damian aimed up his weapon and fired. The mutant fell to the ground. Damian fired three more shots to make sure the thing was dead.

As he walked past the cell where the man was, he felt something hit him. The man had rushed at him and hysterically tried to strangle it. Dogmeat jumped on the man and knocked him down. In a final hiccup of fury, the man collapsed when the dog crushed his throat.

Damian straightened up by massaging his neck. He went back to Fawkes' cell. The door was already open. The Super Mutant came out. It closed its eyes and took a deep breath. It turned its head towards Damian, who moved slightly backwards. Fawkes bowed forward, and Damian couldn't stop thinking about Toshiro.

"Freedom! At last, freedom!" cried the Mutant. "I can never thank you enough."

Fawkes looked behind him to the corridor that led further into the Vault.

Now it's my turn to help you," he said, turning to Damian.

He began to walk. At the corner of the corridor, a Super Mutant, wielding a large mass of steel appeared. It looked at Damian and Fawkes and screamed, running towards them waving its weapon.

Fawkes stood in front of Damian and, with great ease, parried the shot. He disarmed the Super Mutant and crushed its skull with the club. A second mutant arrived, holding a laser rifle. Damian slid to the side and fired. The Super Mutant, hit in the chest, staggered to the wall and slid along, leaving a large black mark in its wake.

Damian and Dogmeat followed Fawkes down the corridor, through computer rooms and a large empty room where a multitude of pipes ran along the walls and up the ceiling with a locked door.

Fawkes eliminated the Super Mutants in his path with disconcerting ease. He swung his club as if it were a simple piece of wood, shattering the Super Mutant's jaws, chest cages and skulls. Damian noted that Fawkes seemed to hate his kind far more than the Brotherhood soldiers could hate the Super Mutants. Damian and Dogmeat had no need to intervene and stayed back to avoid the fury of their new ally.

Fawkes led them to an L-shaped room, occupied by lockers containing radiation suits and a terminal, used for the maintenance of the G.E.C.K. room.

The Super Mutant opened the door. Damian heard his Pip-Boy sizzling as he approached the door. He signaled Dogmeat to back off.

"Stay here," Fawkes ordered. "Beyond this door, the radiation level is lethal to you, humans. I'll get the G.E.C.K. and bring it back to you. Be careful, some of my... Less evolved brethren may be coming."

Fawkes disappeared in the corridor. Damian stood against the doorway leading to the test chambers and prepared his rifle. He stared down the corridor in front of him, ready to shoot at anything that came into his line of sight.

After a few minutes he heard footsteps behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Fawkes coming back, with a small briefcase in his hands.

"There's the G.E.C.K., as promised," said Fawkes, handing the briefcase to Damian. "I hope he's worth all the trouble you've went through to get here."

Damian tipped his rifle over his shoulder. He grabbed the case. It was gray and had the Vault-Tec logo and the G.E.C.K. acronym on it. Damian opened it carefully. Inside were gauges, meters, tubes, a numerical keypad and a small blue screen. Damian had no idea what a device capable of creating life from the most total sterility could look like, but he had expected something else.

He carefully closed the case before turning to Fawkes.

"I never thought I'd say this to a Super Mutant, but... Thank you," Damian said with a smile.

Fawkes bowed forward.

"I'm afraid we'll have to split up. Don't worry about me, I'll find a way out of here. Good luck. And, thank you."

Fawkes left the room, leaving Damian and Dogmeat alone. Damian leaned over to his dog.

"Come on, pal, let's get out of here."

Dogmeat barked happily. They went back the way they came. Damian would have to cross the entire Vault and Murder Pass again before he could return to the Citadel. He did not care. He had achieved his goal. The G.E.C.K. was in his hands. He felt unstoppable. Now he could take the next step, take the Purity Project back from the Enclave's hands and fulfill his parents' dream.

_"I did it, Dad. I finally found it."_

He arrived in the large empty room with the pipes. The door opened ajar. Damian saw a small cylindrical object roll at his feet. The object emitted a whistle and a large white flash came out of it. Damian staggered and fell to his knees. He could no longer hear anything, and his vision was blurred. Three black silhouettes entered through the door and spread out into the room. The whistling in Damian's ears gradually faded away. He managed to hear a bang next to him. The next moment. He saw Dogmeat, lying on its side, blood flowing from its chest. Damian rocked on his back. A fourth figure appeared in front of him, dressed in a beige raincoat over a black uniform. It was Autums. The Enclave had managed to locate Vault 87 and enter to retrieve the G.E.C.K.

Autumn knelt beside him. Damian could see his lips moving, but he couldn't understand or a word. The Colonel straightened up and gave several orders to the soldiers accompanying him.

Just before he lost consciousness, Damian felt that he was being handcuffed and carried out of the Vault.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**The awful looking failed Super Mutant we see is (I think) the only one we encounter in the game. In my opinion, it would have make Vault 87 even more creepy if this things were roaming the place like Centaurs or other Super Mutants.**

**Until next time and thanks for reading.**


	39. Chapter 39: The Eagle's Nest

**Hello everyone. Last time, we left Damian as he was being captured inside Vault 87 and taken to a mysterious place. Let's see how he will manage to get out of this situation.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

_(Thirty minutes earlier, somewhere above the Capital Wasteland)_

"Target is 10 clicks away."

The man was dressed in a black outfit with headphones and microphone. The place he was sitting in was illuminated by a small red light and he was surrounded by the sound of an engine.

About ten people were sitting behind him. All were wearing black power armor and a helmet with a red visor, except for one, dressed in a black uniform and a beige raincoat. He was holding a small file in his hands with loose leaves piled on top of it. On one of them, a picture of a grey briefcase was attached to the briefcase by a paper clip. The briefcase bore the Vault-Tec company logo and the letters _'G', 'E', 'C'_ and _'K'_ on it.

"Colonel Autumn," said the man with the headphones and. "Target in sight."

"Threats?" asked the officer, raising his head.

"Twenty plus foot-mobile, scattered around the landing zone."

"Permission to engage," Autumn said in a monotone voice.

To the roar of the Vertibird's engines was added the crackle of a heavy machinegun mounted on the front of the aircraft. Autumn returned to his notes. A few seconds later, the aircraft turned sharply to the side. The Colonel looked up at the pilot.

"My apologies, Sir. The enemy has rocket launchers."

A small detonation sounded outside the Vertibird. A few seconds later, the crackling sound of the machinegun ceased.

"Sir, all hostiles targets are eliminated but Hunter 2-2 reports engine trouble on their Vertibird. They are requesting instructions."

"Tell them to RTB. We'll continue the mission without them."

The pilot nodded and spoke into his radio. Autumn's Vertibird began its descent.

"Gentlemen, you know the mission," Autumn said. "For President Eden and for America."

"For Eden and America," the soldiers answered in unison.

A tremor indicated that the Vertibird had just landed. One of the soldiers pulled a handle and the compartment door opened, lighting up the interior of the cabin. The soldiers jumped out of the aircraft and dispersed, forming a security perimeter around the aircraft.

Autumn descended in turn, escorted by two soldiers equipped with a plasma rifle and a minigun. The small group headed towards a plain surrounded by rocky hills and piles and metal plates driven into the ground.

The Vertibird took off and started circling the area. A second one was also circling in the sky. One of the soldiers of the group approached the plain and held up a Geiger counter. The device sizzled.

"Our intels are accurate, Colonel. The entrance to Vault 87 is deadly radioactive."

Autumn waved at a group of soldiers. They lowered their weapons and headed for the hill overlooking the entrance to the Vault. They placed a small circular device on the ground and ran away. The next moment there was an explosion. One of the soldiers signaled to one of the Vertibird. The device pivoted and fired a rocket at the spot where the explosion had just taken place.

A hole several meters deep in the ground was where the missile had hit. The soldiers dropped a rope in the hole descended one after the other. They arrived in a metal and concrete corridor, in complete darkness and eaten away by rust.

"The radiation level is minimal, but we'll have to be careful not to stay too long," said the soldier, putting away his Geiger counter.

"Forward, Upsilon attack pattern," Autumn ordered.

The group of soldiers progressed rapidly through the tunnel. They encountered three Super Mutants and one Centaur and quickly eliminated them.

"I'm picking up two heat signatures," whispered one of the soldiers. "One human and one animal."

Autumn waved his hand. One of the soldiers grabbed a small grenade from his belt. A second activated the sliding door in front of them. The door opened enough for the soldier to throw his grenade to the other side.

Through the opening, a large white flash appeared along with a deafening noise. The sound of something falling to the ground was heard. The door opened. On the floor, a young man in t-shirt and fatigues, with a Pip-Boy on his wrist. Beside him was a briefcase, similar to the one in Autumn's notes.

Three soldiers entered. One fired a shot at a dog in the room.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm securing the area," the soldier spat.

"Silence," Autumn barked as he entered.

He crouched down beside the young man and looked into his eyes. A sneer appeared on the Colonel's face.

"Secure the G.E.C.K. and bring it to my Vertibird."

"Aye, aye, Sir."

One of the soldiers grabbed the briefcase and headed down the corridor. Autumn stood up and turned to one of his men.

"What condition is he in? Is he all right?" he asked, pointing to the young man lying on the ground.

"The flash will knock him out for a while."

"Excellent," said Autumn. "Prepare him for transport."

Autumn walked away, leaving his soldiers handcuffing the young man. They returned to the Vertibird. Autumn grabbed a radio and started talking into it.

"Mr. President. Mission accomplished. We're heading back."

The Vertibird took off and headed north.

_(Three hours later)_

Damian slowly opened his eyes. He was in a room with steel walls and ceiling, enclosed in a metal cylinder, surrounded by a blue force field. In front of him, an arch-shaped metal door, lit by blue lights, indicated _"cell 4"_. On the right, a locker and on the left, what looked like a security camera, imitating an eye with a fluorescent blue pupil.

"Ah... You're finally waking up."

Damian turned his head. He almost vomited, his inner ear and brain still affected by the big white flash and detonation that had knocked him unconscious. The Colonel Autumn was standing in the room with him. At his side was a small cart and surgical utensils.

"I was afraid my men's stun grenade was too powerful for your savage metabolism," Autumn continued.

"Where...?"

"We're going to keep it simple. I'll ask the questions and you answer them nicely."

The Colonel of the Enclave stood in front of Damian's capsule and folded his arms behind his back.

"You're going to give me the code to the purifier, and you're going to give it to me right now."

Autumn's arrogant gaze rang out over Damian's face.

"What's going on? Where am I?" Damian asked.

His migraine was gradually subsiding, but he still couldn't move.

"You're in no position to ask or demand anything," Autumn answered. "Give me the code to the purifier, and we might let you live."

Damian was starting to remember what happened to him. He had been captured by the Enclave and was now most likely in their base.

"The code," Autumn repeated.

"I'm not telling you anything, you fucking bastard," Damian hissed.

He knew that even with the G.E.C.K. in their possession, the Enclave would not be able to start Project Purity without the activation code. Damian did not know the code. He had been racking his brain trying to find it, but he had come to the conclusion that the only one who knew the code was his father.

Autumn's jaws clenched.

"I'll be honest with you, I'm not in the mood for jokes. Give me the code or you'll regret it."

Damian remained silent, staring at Autumn.

The Colonel approached the wagon. He looked at it for a moment before turning to Damian.

"You know," he said as if he had just remembered something. "The cell you are in is a pre-war technology, which acts as some kind of stasis pod. I'm won't explain it to you in details, as I know you won't understand, but know that it has some… Interesting features."

He walked around Damian who could only turn his head. The second after, Damian felt electric current running through his body and screamed.

"We have ways of making you talk," smiled Autumn. "Now give me the code."

Damian felt a second electric shock. He panted and spat. He felt that if the force field was deactivated, he would instantly fall on the floor.

Autumn came back in front of him and stared at him.

"The code?" he asked.

Damian swallowed his saliva and took a few deep breaths before turning his head towards the Colonel.

"Fuck you," he managed to say.

Autumn did not reply and stared at him. He returned at the control panel of the cell and Damian screamed as a new and more powerful electric shock ran through his body.

"Give that damn code. Now!"

"Seriously… Fuck you…" Damian panted.

Autumn's face was red in anger. Damian had nothing to win in provoking the Colonel, and at that very moment, he was sure that he was going to die. If that was the case, then he would do everything to piss off Autumn.

_"'Colonel, I need you in my office.'"_

A voice out of nowhere echoed through the cell. Autumn rolled his eyes and took a deep breath before turning to the eye-shaped camera.

"Mr. President, I don't have time. I'll join you soon."

The voice was that of President Eden, the same voice that came out in a loop from the little flying robots of the Enclave that surveyed the Capital Wasteland.

_"'Now, Colonel,'"_ insisted Eden's voice in an authoritative tone.

"Yes Sir," Autumn hissed between her teeth.

He turned around to give Damian a murderous look before leaving the cell. The door closed, leaving Damian alone.

"'_At last, some peace'",_ said the voice of Eden. _"'Please excuse Colonel Autumn, he's been under a lot of stress lately and he has anger management issues that can lead to… This type of behaviors.'"_

"Fuck you too. I'm not telling you anything."

Eden was silent for a few seconds.

_"'You'll find your personal belongings in the locker by the door. I'd love to meet you face to face. There are a number of things I'd very much like to discuss with you.'"_

The force field disappeared, and Damian almost fell to the ground. The eye camera followed him as he headed towards the locker. President Eden's tone was surprisingly friendly, even paternal. If Eden wanted so much to meet him, Damian was not going to keep him waiting. As soon as he entered his office, he would kill him, then he would go and kill Autumn before blowing this place up and he would kill all the soldiers of the Enclave on his way.

Damian opened the locker. Inside, he found his clothes, his bag and all his belongings, and strangely, his rifle and 10mm pistol. The only thing missing was the G.E.C.K.. Damian finished getting dressed in difficulty, his body still num by the electric shocks. He turned, ready to call Dogmeat. His heart tightened when he remembered the vision of Dogmeat lying on the ground of Vault 87. He sighed and walked towards the door.

Damian exited the cell and arrived in a narrow corridor with a metal wall, lit by blue lamps. The floor, a steel grate, concealed a multitude of pipes and electrical cables.

_"I don't mind going into his office, but where the hell is it?"_ Damian thought.

He hadn't taken two steps outside the cell until he felt a hand grab him and push him against the wall.

"Don't move!"

Damian looked over his shoulder and saw an Enclave officer in grey uniform twisting his arm off.

"What the fuck are you doing outside, you should be in your cell!" yelled the Enclave officer.

"Wow, calm down, I have the right to be here!" Damian cried out.

The officer burst out laughing.

"On whose orders? The President's maybe?"

"You got it. He wants to see me."

Damian could feel the officer twisting more and more his arm. At that rate, he was going to break it.

"Yeah, sure. Like I'm going to believe that," said the officer.

"Just fucking ask him, then," said Damian. "I'm sure he'll be pleased to know that you made me arrive late to the appointment."

The officer remained silent for a moment and took Damian to another camera eye near the cell door. He cleared his throat and started talking in a nervous voice.

"Mr. President, sorry for the inconvenience, but I have here the prisoner from the Vault who says he has an appointment with you."

"'_I don't remember authorizing you to contact me directly, Lieutenant,'"_ replied Eden's voice in an authoritative and annoyed tone.

The officer swallowed his saliva. He loosened his grip on Damian a little.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but... Well, it seemed to me that... It was an extraordinary request. My apologies, Mr. President."

The camera stared at the officer for many seconds. He completely let go of Damian who massaged his arm.

_"'Apology noted Lieutenant,'"_ said Eden. _"'I did indeed order this person to join me at my office. Is that clear enough?'"_

"Yes, Sir. Again, my apologies, Sir."

The officer apologized a third time, while Eden ordered him to report to his commander for a new assignment. At the same time, another Enclave officer passed by. He frowned as he looked at Damian but quickly understood that it was better for him not to say anything when he heard Eden's voice.

"'_You,'"_ said Eden. _"'Escort this young man to my office.'"_

The new officer looked at the camera and Damian before nodding and standing at attention. He motioned for Damian to follow him.

As they walked, Eden's voice echoed through several loudspeakers, ordering to let Damian reach his office without intervening.

The officer led Damian to a large corridor. Holographic blueprints were scattered along the walls. The base of the Enclave seemed to be in an underground bunker. On one of the plans, Damian could read the name _"Raven Rock"_. It was probably an old pre-war military installation. After all, if the Enclave boasted that they were the descendants of the U.S. government and its military, then it was logical that they would have invested in such a complex. Strangely enough, the architecture of some of the lights and technology around it reminded Damian of the alien spaceship.

Like the alien ship, Raven Rock had a cryogenic and technology lab. Upon inspecting the plan, Damian realized that he would have to go through the entire base before reaching Eden's office.

They walked to another section of the bunker. Scientists in white suit and protective masks with opaque visors were working on computer consoles or on animals or mutants, immersed in large capsules filled with a yellowish liquid. Damian felt as if he could see Vault 101's biology class, with its jars of animal organs or heads immersed in formaldehyde, except that the Vault had no feral ghouls, Super Mutants or Robobrains' brains in its jars.

Each new section of the bunker was guarded by two soldiers in power armor and Damian could see several patrols of soldiers, led by an officer and accompanied by one of these little flying robots.

Damian and the officer continued walking for several minutes to a small corridor when Colonel Autumn's voice echoed throughout the bunker.

_"'Attention all Enclave personnel, this is Colonel Autumn. I am giving orders to ignore President Eden's latest directive. Order to shoot on sight the prisoner from Vault 101. Repeat. Order is given to shoot the prisoner from Vault 101.'"_

Damian and the officer stopped and looked at each other. The officer slipped his hand on his belt to grab his plasma pistol. Damian kicked him in the stomach and knocked him out with a kick to the face.

Damian rushed to the first room he could find. It was a laboratory. Four sections occupied the corners, serving as a work surface or test room. In the center, a stasis Super Mutant was floating in its giant jar of formaldehyde.

Damian dived into one of the four sections of the lab. Upstairs, the guards on duty, fired their plasma weapons. Damian managed to eliminate one of them. Around him, the lab assistants ran for cover. An alarm began to sound. The whole base was about to rush on him.

Damian ran to the exit of the lab. He fired blindly. He didn't care if he hit a soldier, a scientist, or one of those jars with the test subjects in it, as long as he got out of there without being liquefied by a plasma shot.

He entered the main corridor and went down a flight of stairs. He went through a door labeled _"3B"_. On the other side, he came across a large cafeteria. Several laser rays greeted him. He jumped back and grabbed a grenade from his belt. He pulled the pin when he heard footsteps down the stairs. Damian threw the grenade down. He heard a scream followed by an explosion. He entered the mess hall shooting blindly.

Damian took cover behind a metal pillar and knocked a table to the side to protect himself from the attackers coming down the stairs. He reloaded his assault rifle and stood up to fire. He had four enemies in front of him.

The first, an officer was shot in the chest and collapsed against a table. Damian pulled out a new grenade and threw it at the three remaining soldiers. The explosion made the cutlery and food flew from the tables.

Damian looked towards the center of the explosion and saw only dead bodies. He left the mess hall, climbed a new staircase and went through another door. He was in a corridor with several steel pillars. On his right was a staircase and a door leading to the cryogenic laboratory.

He turned around and struck the door control box open with the butt of his rifle and pulled the wires out. A shower of sparks flew out of the box and the lights in the door went out.

Damian walked towards the door leading to the cryogenic laboratory. He activated it and was stunned by what he discovered.

The cryogenic lab was organized in the same way as the biological lab, but it was different, partly because of the low temperature, but also because of the stasis chambers that occupied parts of the room.

What left Damian speechless was the stasis capsule in the center of the lab. Floating in a fluorescent blue cylinder, a nightmarish creature was watching him. Three meters high, brown scaly skin, or so Damian assumed, the creature had thorns on its back and a long reptilian tail. Its limbs, thin and muscular, were reminiscent of those of the dinosaurs in Damian's childhood picture books. Its arms ended in hands with three huge, razor-sharp, three-foot claws. The creature's head resembled that of a lizard or a dragon. It had a broad jaw with sharp teeth and horns on the top of its head. Its eyes, reptilian, stared at Damian through the cryogenic force field of the capsule.

Although he was convinced the creature was asleep, Damian couldn't help but feel that he was being watched. The other cryogenic capsules contained wild ghouls or mutant animals, some vaguely resembling bears.

When James had explained to Damian that there were worse things than Super Mutants in the Capital Wasteland, he found it hard to believe. He now had proof that the mutations of the D.C. wildlife had created horrors that even his worst nightmares would be unable to imagine.

The cryogenic lab was strangely deserted. Damian hurried across it. He arrived in a wide corridor lined with doors. He activated one of them and stumbled upon a dormitory. He kept walking forward and stopped near a map. The alarm continued to sound, and he heard footsteps. A whole squad of soldiers in power armor converged on him. Damian entered the nearest room and closed the door behind him.

"You? But…"

Damian was standing in front of Anna Holt, the scientist from Project Purity, who has been missing since the Enclave took over the Jefferson Memorial.

"What are you doing here?" asked the scientist in her usual dismissive tone.

Damian heard the shouts of the Enclave squad approaching. He backed away from the door and held his breath. When he was certain they were gone, he turned back to Holt.

"We all thought you died in the attack on the purifier. What the hell are you doing here?" he asked.

"They captured me in the attack and brought me here."

Damian then noticed that the room they were in didn't look like a cell, but more like a bedroom.

"Wait..."

"At first I didn't want to help them, but have you seen all this technology they have? It's way beyond what the Brotherhood can get and beyond anything I've ever seen."

"You helped these guys?" Damian cried out.

Holt sounded surprised.

"Of course, they want to help people and change the Wasteland. You've seen this place you've seen this technology. Working in that environment was a golden opportunity."

"Helping people? Do you know what those guys are doing to the people out there?"

Damian shook his head in disgust.

"So, you told them everything? Did you tell them about the G.E.C.K. and how it takes one to make the purifier work?"

"Yes, I told them about the G.E.C.K." answered Holt.

"You betrayed Doctor Li and your friends! But more important, you betrayed my father! All so you could work in that bunker and help those murderers!"

"I'm sorry you feel that way. What are you going to do about it? Kill me? And stop shouting, I don't want to be seen with you."

Damian drew his gun. Holt's condescending, haughty expression turned into surprise and then fear. She opened her mouth to speak, but Damian fired before she could make a sound. Holt fell backwards onto her bed, blood gushing from her forehead.

Damian put the gun away. He felt neither relief nor guilt. Holt had knowingly helped the Enclave run Project Purity, and she had informed them about the G.E.C.K.. If Autumn and her men were able to find Vault 87, it was her fault. The entire advance Damian thought he had on the Enclave had been wiped out by a poor woman of science, preferring to satisfy her desire to work in a laboratory full of the latest technology, rather than remain loyal to her former companions.

Damian left the room without a glance at Holt's corpse. He felt that everyone who had willingly joined or worked with the Enclave deserved the same fate as Holt.

Damian walked through the dormitories. He managed to avoid another patrol. He found it strange that the Enclave didn't have more staff at its headquarters. Most of their troops must have been on other levels of the base or at Project Purity. As well, some of the doors he wanted to use were locked while others seemed to open when he arrived.

He entered a large circular room. In the center was an interactive table, representing a map of the Capital Wasteland. It looked very much like the one the Brotherhood had at the Citadel. Damian searched for a few seconds and found the locations of the Citadel and the Jefferson Memorial. He noticed the locations of the Vault-Tec fallout shelters and the various human settlements. Small dots flashed and did not correspond to places Damian knew.

He heard footsteps behind him. Two soldiers in power armor walked through the door Damian had come through. Damian raised his rifle to them and emptied his entire clip in their direction. The bullets that fell on their armor ricocheted until some of them went through the metal layer.

Damian left the room without checking if the soldiers were dead. He came across a large room. Three metal pylons supported the ceiling. He came face to face with an entire squad from the Enclave. The soldiers pointed their laser and plasma rifles at him. Behind them were two Sentry bots.

Damian froze. He wouldn't have time to take cover or turn back. He heard the laser weapons activate and waited for the fateful moment when the officer would give the order to fire.

He closed his eyes. His thoughts drifted to the Jefferson Memorial, the purifier that would probably never be completed. To the Citadel and the few acquaintances, he had there. To Sarah, whom he liked very much, despite her being a little too authoritarian and a little contemptuous of the inhabitants of the Wastes. To the inhabitants of Megaton who had finally welcomed him as one of their own. To Vault 101 and Amata. He wouldn't have the chance to see her again and tell her how he felt about her. Finally, he thought of his father and mother. He would soon join them.

Damian heard the officer of the Enclave screaming. It wasn't an order to fire as he had prepared himself to, but a horrible scream of pain. When Damian opened his eyes, he noticed that the officer's body was lighting up. His skin disintegrated and his flesh turned to ashes. Where the officer had stood up a few second earlier, was a black skeleton, with small pieces of charred flesh still clinging to it.

The other soldiers turned around. The two robots that accompanied them pointed their laser cannons at them. It was all over in seconds. The laser melted the steel of the power armors and helmets, charring flesh and bones in excruciating screams.

Damian stood still for several seconds. He didn't dare to move for fear of getting shot at in turn.

_"The, President, will, receive you. Please, step forward."_ said one of the robots.

Damian was beginning to understand why he had found it easy enough to reach Eden's office and why the robots had killed the Enclave squad, when he saw one of those eye-shaped cameras. Eden was so anxious to meet him that he had not hesitated to have some of his men killed.

Damian approached slowly to a large metal door which slid to let him pass. It opened on a wide corridor, joining a large room. The whole room was occupied by servers, databases and computer consoles. In the center, a huge tower surrounded by a staircase rose about ten metres. The tower was also composed of data banks and computer cables.

Damian climbed the stairs. He finally arrived on a small metal footbridge, in front of a huge computer. The main screen was on and only showed a white horizontal line, centered along the entire length of the screen. Smaller screens were scrolling lines of code or images from security cameras. On the large console in front, a terracotta pot with three small yellow flowers was placed, in a vain attempt to make the place look less spartan.

Damian looked up. The tower was several meters tall meters and it was impossible for him to see the top.

_"Ah... Face to face, at last. It was time for us to meet."_

Damian recognized Eden's voice. He looked around him but saw no one.

_"I am delighted with your success. I had not foreseen that the journey would be so difficult, but it has allowed me to test your abilities."_

"What's this circus?" Damian spat. "If you want to meet me in person, show yourself and stop hiding behind a screen, you coward!"

Eden's voice emitted a small laugh. Damian looked around again, looking for a human figure. He could see nothing. He was alone.

"Let's get it over with!"

"_But I'm here, right in front of you."_

Damian turned to the computer. He looked at the machine, slowly understanding what Eden had just told him.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**I added some things in the interrogation part with Autumn as it felt a little weak in the game.**

**As for the title of the chapter (in case some of you wondered where it comes from), "The Eagle's Nest" was one of the Third Reich's meeting and government place in Bavaria. I chose the name for different reasons. It's located in a mountain and was used for government purposes, like Raven Rock. I hesitated with another (in)famous WW2 German place "The Wolf's Lair" but I finaly chose the first one (mainly because of the location and the fact that Raven rock and Eagle's Nest refers to birds).**


	40. Chapter 40: Man and Machine

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well. Please enjoy.**

* * *

"I must be dreaming..."

President Eden. The one who hid behind the political messages on the radio, the one who was at the head of the Enclave, the one who was responsible for the death of Damian's father was in reality only a machine.

"Is this supposed to be a joke?" Damian asked.

_"No. Certainly not. I'm the computer in front of you, along with a few thousand databases located underneath this room."_

"So what, President Eden is actually a pre-war computer, hidden for two centuries in a bunker?"

_"That's right. I'm a ZAX unit. Our pre-war role was to manage the U.S. Government's sensitive site systems, such as this bunker. Gradually, I became aware of and observed the ruins of the East Coast of the United States from this command bunker."_

"The artificial intelligence that becomes aware of its existence," said Damian. "It's like a science fiction movie."

_"And yet it is the strict truth and reality,"_ said Eden's voice with a touch of amusement.

"That said, it explains a lot of things."

_"It's true that most people are content with the benevolent and reassuring voice of authority they hear on the radio and are not surprised by the lack of public appearances."_

Damian wanted to tell him that the fact that the inhabitants of the Capital Wasteland had never seen Eden in person was probably the least of their worries.

_"But you do not belong to these people,"_ continued the machine. _"You're a very unique person. And that's why you're here."_

"You need someone to pull the plug? I can fix this," Damian said, pulling the breech of his assault rifle.

_"You may be unique, but you're also an uncommonly vulgar person,"_ replied Eden. _"That said, I don't have to fear the damage you could do to me. But if we can continue on a more important matter, know that you would not be here before me if you were useless to us. I've been watching you, you know?"_

"I'm flattered," Damian replied sarcastically.

_"Ever since my Eyebots saw you outside your Vault and at the gates of that heap of tin that people dare to call a city, I have been following you and studying your every move."_

Damian suddenly remembered that he had seen one of the little flying robots from the Enclave watching him in the distance, just before the attack on Jefferson Memorial.

_"I have to confess,"_ Eden continued. _"How impressed I am with you, and your ability to stand up to the elite of our nation so that you could meet me in person is all the more remarkable."_

Eden let a brief silence settle down and spoke again.

_"Your country needs you."_

Damian almost burst out laughing.

"My country? Are you aware that the United States no longer exists, just like the rest of the world?"

_"That's a pretty sad way of looking at it, don't you think?"_ replied the computer. _"The United States has gone through some tough times, no doubt about it, but it can recover."_

"_You're completely out of line,"_ Damian cried out. "We're not talking about the financial crisis of 1929 here. We're talking about the atomic devastation on a planetary scale. If your little robots are so efficient, you must have seen that what's out there is far from being able to call itself the United States anymore."

_"I'm delighted to see that you know the history of our great nation. But if you don't mind, I'd like to explain it to you in more detail, so that you understand the importance of the situation. Perhaps that will spur you to action."_

Damian sighed and signaled to the machine to continue. He crossed his arms and fixed the white line on the screen which widened and narrowed, like lips, as Eden's voice was expressed.

_"You said it yourself. Our country has been ravaged by nuclear weapons. War has been going on for a long time, and yet we are still suffering the effects of it. We will only be able to progress if humanity regains its hold and gets rid of the mutations that are consuming our country. "Super Mutant", ghouls and other creatures swarming on the surface must be eradicated and I believe that the work of your late father will succeed better than anything else."_

Damian raised an eyebrow. The fact that Eden, whom he held responsible for everything, dared to mention his father infuriated him, but he was much more intrigued by the role of the Purity Project in the plan that Eden presented to him.

Until now, Damian had only thought that the Enclave had taken over Project Purity to get access to clean, radiation-free water. Now that he was in this pre-war bunker that looked like a spaceship, he understood that the plans of the Enclave were quite different.

"What does my father's work have to do in this?" asked Damian.

_"The purifier your father developed is capable of providing clean water to the entire Capital Wasteland,"_ the machine replied. _"But with just a small modification, it will be able to spread agents that will destroy mutant creatures by simple ingestion."_

While Eden continued to explain his plan, Damian made several calculations in his head. If the ingestion of water from the purifier, modified by the Enclave, could eliminate Super Mutants and other mutated creatures of the Earth, then it could effectively change the face of the world forever.

The only point of doubt was the definition of the term _"mutant creature"_ used by Eden. The ghouls of Underworld were just humans, victims of high radiation exposure that kept their lucidity, unlike the feral ghouls in the metro tunnels. All the wildlife had been affected by the radiation of the Great War and continued to be exposed to it in some areas of the ruins of D.C.. Thus, a harmless Brahmin, a source of food and the main asset for the merchant caravans of the region, would also be affected by the agent released into the water and would probably end up dying. In the same way, humans living on the surface, at Megaton, Rivet City or elsewhere in the Wasteland, had also been exposed to radiation, whether through water, food or simply being born into a world ravaged by atomic weapons. What would happen to them if they ingested this water? Would the radiation in their bodies disappear little by little or would they also die?

Damian had also been exposed to high doses of radiation. Whether it was exploring the ruins of D.C. or Moira's research. He had undergone a small, seemingly benign mutation, but his metabolism was not that of a human who was born and died in a Vault and would never have come into contact with the outside world.

There was also no indication that Super Mutants, not derived from radiation such as ghouls or others, would be affected in the same way.

Even if the fact of being able to get rid of the Super Mutants was an opportunity to be seized, the plan of Eden included too many unknowns factors and Damian was certain that, even if the robot had planned everything from the beginning to the end, he was not going to risk compromising its operation by confirming the fears of the young man. It was also out of the question that Damian would sabotage his parents' work and dream with the probably genocidal and catastrophic plan of a computer thinking it was the President of the United States.

Eden had finished speaking. One of the consoles in front of Damian activated. A small circular slit opened and a glass capsule, surrounded by metal came out. Inside, a greenish liquid was visible.

_"In front of you is a vial containing a modified strain of FEV. You will need to insert it into the Project Purity control console. »_

The FEV. Damian had read that acronym on one of the terminals at Vault 87. It was the mutagenic virus that Vault-Tec scientists had inoculated to the Vault's residents to create the Super Mutants. Eden therefore wanted to use the source of one of the worst plagues of the Wasteland to be able to eradicate the mutant creatures from the surface of the Earth.

_"All you have to do next is enter the activation code for the purifier and the machine will do the rest. Don't worry about the G.E.C.K., we've already taken care of plugging it into the purifier. All we need now is the activation code."_

"You're a sick bastard," Damian said without taking his eyes off the vial. "You've modified a mutagenic agent responsible for the creation of Super Mutants to use it as a biological weapon. You may be a computer, but you're just as sick as the people who dropped the bombs two centuries ago."

_"I find it unfortunate and disappointing that you see it that way, young man,"_ Eden replied. _"Unfortunately, I must insist, given the seriousness of the situation and can only let you leave Raven Rock if you take this vial."_

Damian heard the locks on the door behind him click. He turned around and walked to the door. He pressed the opening button, but the heavy steel door remained inert.

"Let me out of here now!" Damian cried as he returned to the computer.

_"I'm sorry, but as long as you..."_

"You really think I'm gonna take your damn virus vial and participate in your little genocide? I'm gonna kill you and I'm gonna blow this fucking place up in the process!

Eden burst out laughing. Damian began to raise his rifle when the computer resumed speaking.

_"Would you really destroy the best hope of the people of the Wasteland?"_ the voice asked.

"You're just an experiment that went wrong, not a savior or anything more twisted."

"_Really?"_ Eden said. _"Would you be so kind as to elaborate on what you said?"_

Eden's tone was tinged with curiosity. He obviously wanted to know how far Damian's reasoning would go and he also seemed amused by the young man standing up to him.

"_You are a machine. How can you claim to be the President of the United States? Only a human can claim that title."_

_"I am not 'a computer',"_ Eden objected with authority. _"Haven't you been listening?"_

"Yes, you are. You're a ZAX unit that became self-aware, I heard, but that doesn't explain it. How do you know you're doing the right thing?"

_"But it's very simple. Because, unlike humans, I am infallible."_

"How can you tell?"

_"I am infallible, because I was programmed to be, naturally."_

Damian looked at the computer screen. He massaged his temples before shaking his head and sighed.

"Do you realize what you say? You know because you know. You realize it goes against all logic and doesn't make any sense."

Eden remained silent. In an almost imperceptible way, Damian could hear the data banks around him, starting to heat up.

_"... Processing..."_, said the voice of Eden.

The small screens next to the main screen were scrolling lines of text at a speed that made reading impossible.

_"Internal logic error detection. Resetting main memory circuits. Please stand by."_

"You'd better pull the plug and blow this place up," said Damian. "The world will be better off without you."

_"I... Uh... Perhaps... Perhaps there is a problem. I'm... I'm unsure how to proceed."_

For the first time, Eden seemed lost and destabilized. The voice synthesized by the machine stuttered and pronounced incomprehensible words. A grin appeared on Damian's face.

"Let me help you on that one," he said. Go fuck yourself. You, Autumn, the Enclave, this place. Fuck all of you."

The machine didn't make a sound. The white line on the main screen began to move.

_"Processing directive."_

The voice wasn't Eden's. It was a voice much more mechanical and closer to a machine.

_"New directive accepted. Self-destruct sequence of site, codename 'Raven Rock', initialized. Civilian present is advised to take the FEV material and exit at once."_

Damian would have found it amusing that the computer understood what he meant, but he didn't have time to congratulate himself. An alarm began to sound, and a voice echoed through the bunker.

_"Self-destruct sequence initiated. T minus 10 minutes and counting."_

Damian rushed to the door. The door refused to open. He turned towards Eden. All her screens were off. Damian swore and tried to open the door again.

_"T minus nine minutes and counting,"_ thundered his voice through the bunker's loudspeakers.

Damian laid eyes on the vial of FEV in front of him. He swore again and grabbed the capsule and put it in a bag on his belt. The door behind him unlocked. Damian started to run.

He came into a wide corridor to the right. At the end, a wide metal door was open. Several silhouettes in power armors, uniforms, lab coats or sportswear all rushed in the same direction.

Damian walked through the door, framed by laser turrets. One of the Enclave soldiers turned to him and raised his laser gun. The turrets were faster than him and the soldier vaporized into a cloud of glowing ash.

Eden had reprogrammed Raven Rock's security system to help Damian get to his office and his directive still had to take effect. The turrets fired at anyone who attacked him or pretended to threaten Damian.

Panic gripped the soldiers and officers present. Some rushed to a metal door at the end of the corridor. A tremor shook the base. The self-destruct must have malfunctioned and was triggered in advance. Damian sprinted to the door. A gas line in the floor burst, spitting up an impenetrable wall of flame. Soldiers caught in the fireball were writhing in pain on the ground, screaming for help.

Damian went down another corridor to his right. He came to a large window. On the other side was a huge well, used as a lift. A large platform rose to the surface, lifting a Vertibird whose engines were already activated. As Damian walked forward, he saw several more of these elevators come into action. One of them had stopped working and the small squad of soldiers that gravitated around the Vertibird was desperately trying to find a way to restart it or find a way out before it ended up buried under tons of concrete, metal and dirt.

Damian continued his mad rush. All around him were the corpses of members of the Enclave, victims of the bunker's defense system or of explosions.

He arrived at a fork. Two soldiers were helping a comrade with a head wound to get back on his feet. At their side was a large metal cage. An explosion shook the corridor and tripped Damian and the soldiers, damaging the wall and the power supply.

The locks on the cage disengaged. The doors opened slowly, pushed open from the inside. A clawed hand grabbed the edge of the cage and then a bellowed roar that managed to cover the alarm and the distant explosions sounded.

The soldiers turned around and their faces froze in an expression of horror. A large head emerged from the cage. Damian recognized the creature he had seen in the cryogenic laboratory, with its broad jaw, impressive teeth, reptilian eyes and horns on the top of the skull.

The creature crawled out of its cage and slowly turned towards the humans. The soldiers abandoned their companion on the ground and began to run. The creature whistled and rushed towards them, crushing the skull of the wounded man under its huge clawed foot. It raised its arm and brought it down on one of the soldiers and tore his power armor as if it was a sheet of paper. Cut in half, the soldier's body slowly spun in the air before crashing to the ground in a sheaf of intestines and blood.

Damian started running again. Two Sentry bots passed by and started shooting at the creature. Looking over his shoulder, Damian saw that the last soldier had been caught by the monster which had ripped his head off with a snap of the jaw.

Damian kept coming across dead bodies on his way, wounded and panicked men and women running away. They all rushed through a door. One woman, just behind the others, begged them to wait for her. Another explosion tripped her. She started crawling to get out of danger. Damian saw the door's hydraulics fail and fell on the woman, severing her legs.

The tremors and explosions were becoming more and more frequent. Damian didn't know how much time he had left before he went up in smoke along with the bunker. He followed the few plans he saw on the walls and the few soldiers he passed on his way.

He ended up in a long corridor. At the end, a door, marked as the entrance. Damian ran faster. He activated the door and found himself in an arch-shaped corridor, built of concrete and ending with an imposing steel door about a meter thick. The door slowly slid outwards, sliding on a metal track.

Outside, the grey sky greeted Damian, as well as the body of a soldier from the Enclave, propelled from behind the small concrete platform that allowed access to the bunker. Damian stepped aside to avoid the soldier. Turning around, he saw an imposing figure with yellow skin and a torn vault suit.

"Ah! I finally find you!"

Fawkes, the Super Mutant from Vault 87 stood in front of him, holding a laser gatling in his hands and sporting the closest thing to a smile on his mutant face.

Damian didn't have time to reply that a loud bang resonated from inside the bunker. He motioned for Fawkes to follow him. They ran away and dove behind a rock when a terrible explosion sounded in their backs. Damian felt a heat wave engulf him. All around them, small pieces of rock or metal were crashing on the ground and above their heads, Vertibird were flying away. One of them was hit by a piece of rock and began to whirl around in the sky before crashing further down the road. Several others spun in the sky towards the Wasteland, probably heading for a secondary base or the Jefferson Memorial.

A series of explosions rang out and it was always raining chunks of rock, or it was a Vertibird or a soldier ejected from one of the aircraft crashing beside them.

The explosions stopped. Damian let out a long sigh of relief when he heard a metallic crash in front of him. The heavy front door of the bunker had been torn off its steel hinges by the blast of one of the explosions and crashed a few meters from him and Fawkes.

The Super Mutant got up first. In the sky, small shards of pebble or burning metal continued to fly and fall. Damian turned back towards the bunker.

In front of him, he could see a road leading up to a mountain, from which columns of smoke and flames were now coming out. The base of the Enclave had gone up in smoke, buried under a mountain, with Eden and God only knew how many soldiers and scientists.

Damian wondered if Autumn had escaped. He deeply hoped that the Colonel had ended up crushed through a door or shredded by one of those creatures in the bunker, but it was a good bet that the officer had left the base as soon as the self-destruction began and was on his way to Project Purity with what was left of his army.

"I knew you survived," said Fawkes as he approached Damian.

"What are you doing here?" Damian asked, trying to ignore the ringing in his ears.

"I witnessed your capture and somehow managed to follow your captors," replied Fawkes. "But I wish I had arrived sooner to help you escape or to... Prevent the death of your companion."

Damian thought back to Dogmeat. He sighed and looked up at the Super Mutant.

"Don't worry, I apparently have a knack for escaping from bunkers and fallout shelters."

"I owe you my freedom," the Super Mutant continued. "And it was only fair that I try to return the favor. After all, you're the only person I know in this world."

Damian could not help but smile at the words of the Super Mutant. He nodded in gratitude. Damian turned his head to the Wasteland. The landscape was much more hilly and steeper than the ruins of D.C. or the surroundings of Megaton. There were no dwellings. The only evidence that man ever set foot on this land were the rare car wrecks, abandoned on the road near Raven Rock and in the distance, huge steel and concrete towers, each topped by a satellite, facing the heavens and a forest of power pylons and radio towers.

He had no idea where he was. He consulted Pip-Boy's map. Damian was forced to recognize something. The pre-war products had been built to last. His RobCo Pip-Boy may not have been one of the newest models in Vault 101, but all of its features worked, and most impressive of all, the computer's built-in map and GPS system was still connected to one of the many RobCo or Vault-Tec satellites orbiting the Earth.

Damian displayed the map of his Pip-Boy and searched for his position for a few seconds. When he was abducted by the Enclave, his Pip-Boy had automatically geotagged the route from Vault 87 to the Raven Rock bunker.

It was located northwest of the ruins of D.C., about 20 miles away. From here, it was impossible to see the town, hidden behind the mountains. It would be impossible for him to reach the Citadel before nightfall. Time was running out. The Enclave may have lost its headquarters, but it still posed a serious threat. It still controlled the Purifier, and it had the G.E.C.K. in its possession. The only piece missing was the activation code.

"You could come with me," he said, turning to Fawkes. "I have to get back to D.C. as soon as possible, if you want to hit the road with me."

Fawkes eyes widened. He bowed slightly forward.

"It would be an honor to follow someone like you. Shall we go?"

_(About ten minutes earlier)_

The soldier closed the door of the Vertibird's compartment. The engines started slowly and covered the alarm and detonations that had been ringing for a few minutes in Raven Rock.

Colonel Autumn took his seat and fastened his seat belt. With him was his personal guard, consisting of a five-man squad in power armor. Autumn looked preoccupied.

He had just left Eden's office and was about to review troops leaving for the Jefferson Memorial when he heard Eden address the bunker staff and order that the prisoner from Vault 101 was to be not arrested.

Autumn immediately announced a counter-order. He knew very well that Eden was going to try to use the young man from the Vault and he could not support it. Such a thing would jeopardize the whole operation of Project Purity and would reduce to nothing the efforts of the Enclave to impose itself as the main military force of the Capital Wasteland and to present itself as the saviors in the eyes of the population and, on a larger scale, for the whole of the United States.

It was already some time since Autumn had no more confidence in Eden. He felt that the President's plans were no longer in line with those of the Enclave. He had even elaborated a plan to oust Eden by deactivating him for good, but as a good disciplined officer, he had continued to obey orders, until this day.

The launching of the self-destruct sequence of Raven Rock could mean only one thing. The young man from Vault 101 had made it to Eden and had activated the destruction of the bunker. He was now aware of Eden's secret identity. Until now, only Autumn knew that Eden was a ZAX computer. Keeping such a secret had not been an easy thing but with the destruction of the base, the secret would be forever buried under tons of concrete and rock and it would be so easy for him to spread a lie about Eden's death, dead with a gun in his hand fighting the enemies of the United States.

He did not know if Eden had been able to convince the young man of Vault 101 to accept his plan, namely, the extermination of mutant creatures, whether Super Mutants, ghouls or humans born on the surface but if he had to bet on it, Autumn would have said that he did not.

For the time being, he was the new command of the Enclave and he was going to carry out his mission. To restore the glory and values of pre-war America and become the sole military force in the Capital Wasteland.

The Vertibird left Raven Rock. A few seconds later, the crew heard a loud bang and the aircraft wobbled because of the shock wave.

"Colonel," said slowly the co-pilot of the Vertibird. "We just lost contact with Raven Rock."

A deadly silence settled over the cabin. Everyone knew that the self-destruction of the base, once initiated, was irreversible, but the shock wave of the explosion and the announcement of the now silent radio waves fell on the soldiers like a punch to the face.

"What are your orders, Colonel?"

Autumn turned to his men.

"Contact other Vertibirds. Orders to proceed to Jefferson Memorial. We'll set up camp there and ensure the success of our mission. The Purifier will be the symbol of the Enclave and the new America rising from its ashes."

The Vertibird flew away to the ruins of D.C., its crew preparing for the inevitable battle that would soon begin.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**


	41. Chapter 41: Special delivery

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well. First, massive thanks to all of you who have been reading/favorite/follow this story. We are close to the end of Damian's journey through the Capital Wasteland. Without further notice, let's get right into it.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

_(The Citadel)_

Sarah and the rest of the Pride were in the briefing room at the Citadel. With them were Elder Lyons, various high-ranking Brotherhood members and some scribes. Reilly and her men, who had arrived the day before, were also present. Standing around a wooden table, each one silently observed an old map of D.C., centered on the Jefferson Memorial. Numerous annotations had been drawn on it. Crosses, circles, lines and arrows of different colors that a person unaware of the situation could not decipher.

"There, there, and there again."

Colvin was pointing to different points on the map and a young scribe would haste to add an annotation.

"That makes a total of ten machinegun nest just between the Francis Scott Key Bridge and the Tidal Basin," Reilly commented. "And given their locations, they're going to make a real mess before we can get flush them out."

"Not to mention that they probably had to booby-trap the area and post snipers in the buildings," said one of the Brotherhood Paladins.

"I've spotted some interesting sniper positions," Colvin replied, pointing to new locations on the map. "But nothing to suggest that the area is booby-trapped."

"Well," Donovan said in a sigh. "all this MGs and snipers won't be a problem until we cross the FSK bridge. And we'll be sitting duck while we cross it with all their Vertibirds."

Silence fell as the soldiers and mercenaries memorized the new map annotations.

The Brotherhood was understaffed compared to the Enclave, and it wasn't the five members of the Rangers who would fill the gaps. Butcher and Reilly were still suffering from wounds received at the Statesman Hotel and were only here to provide tactical expertise and medical support to the Brotherhood troops.

No matter how they approached the situation, a frontal attack on the Jefferson Memorial would result in bloodbath for both sides. The Rangers had been introduced to the Brotherhood's secret weapon and marveled at it, but even Lyons and Rothchild doubted its contribution to the battle.

In a corner of the room, right next to a pile of maps and files, a small table had been set up. An old military radio had been placed there and a young recruit was sitting in front, headphones screwed on his ears and listening nervously. On the radio, silence, heavy. The recruit was waiting for the message from the sentries at the gate of the Citadel, the message that would announce the return of the Star Paladin Cross's team.

Occasionally, Lyons would turn to the radio operator who would raise his head to him and signal that the airwaves were still silent.

Reilly would stare at the map and bite her lip. The Jefferson Memorial was only accessible from two directions. From the North, following the Francis Scott Key Bridge from the Citadel and down the main street to Tidal Basin, and from the East, from Rivet City.

The Brotherhood had staked everything on an assault from the North. It was the only way their secret weapon could get to the Purifier and it was also the most direct route. Access from the East would force the troops to go through the metro tunnels from the Farragut West station near Megaton, through all the ruins of D.C. to Seward Square, and out at Anacostia Crossing to Rivet City. Apart from the extremely long time such a journey would take, the D.C. metro tunnels were always a dangerous place and the various stations still intact changed hands far too often to allow a whole army to pass through them. Indeed, a station occupied by humans could be invaded by feral ghouls or Super Mutants and vice versa, and that was without counting the tunnels full of radiation, collapsed or blocked by train cars, making it impossible for soldiers in power armor to pass through. The Enclave could also redeploy quickly with its Vertibirds and trap Brotherhood troops in the tunnels, with no hope of supply.

Moreover, an attack from the East would expose Rivet City to fighting and the risk of destroying or even damaging the carrier was too great.

An attack from the river had at one time been considered and then quickly ruled out. Neither the Brotherhood, let alone the Rangers, had any boats and if they feared crossing the bridge, crossing the river in old boats salvaged along the Potomac would take the form of collective suicide.

Reilly massaged her temples. She almost came to regret the clashes between her men and the Super Mutants or the Talon Company. The only good thing about the direct attack from the North, apart from the secret weapon of the Brotherhood, which was still a big question, was the proximity of the Jefferson Memorial. It was quite possible to place support units along the Potomac bank from the Citadel to Arlington Library. The problem was that the more units supporting the bank, the fewer troops would be available for the assault.

"Assuming we can get across the bridge and reach the Purifier, we'll still be stuck by the force fields they've set up to isolate Memorial," sighed Reilly.

The radio operator leapt to his feet, knocking over his chair. Everyone turned to him.

"The Star Paladin Cross is back!" he cried.

"Do they have the G.E.C.K.?" Lyons asked hastily.

The radio operator repeated the question into the microphone. He turned to Lyons.

"Negative, only the Star Paladin and junior scribe Hood are here."

"What?"

Elder Lyons, Sarah, Reilly and the others left the briefing room and headed for the Citadel entrance. They crossed the corridors of the Citadel and made their way to the inner courtyard.

Cross was laying Hood down on the ground. The young scribe was sweating, and her left leg was burnt. A doctor was called, and two soldiers arrived with a stretcher. They carefully placed the young woman on it before taking her inside the Citadel.

"Cross," said Lyons as he approached her.

The Star Paladin turned to him and dared not look at him.

"What happened? Where are the others?" asked Sarah.

"I... I failed in my mission," said Cross.

Lyons looked at her for a few seconds.

"Explain to me," he said calmly. "What happened?"

Cross recounted the events, from their discovery at the entrance to Vault 87, too irradiated to get there, to the crossing of the caves and Berry's death. She also told of their intervention at Paradise Falls and the liberation of the children of Little Lamplight to gain access to the caves and Vault 87.

"I'm sorry," she concluded. "There was nothing I could do to stop him from continuing on his own."

"So, Franklin entered Vault 87 alone," Sarah repeated. "And then what happened next?"

"I walked Hood back to the caves. I wanted to leave her in the hands of those children to be treated and go back, but her injury was more serious than I expected and her state was getting worse."

She left a short silence before resuming.

"I failed in my mission and accept all the consequences. I have no excuse to present to you."

"Star Paladin Cross," said Lyons.

The woman turned to him, ready for his punishment.

"You most certainly saved the life of Scribe Hood, and I am saddened to learn that our Brother, Knight Berry has fallen. We have received no news of young Franklin, and it is still possible that he is at this moment on his way to the Citadel with the G.E.C.K. in his possession. It is impossible at this time to determine whether or not your mission is a failure. In the meantime, get some rest and I want your full report as soon as possible."

"Yes, Elder."

Cross moved away towards the gate leading into the Citadel.

"What a fucking idiot," sighed Sarah.

"Don't worry, Sentinel Lyons," said Reilly. "Franklin will come back. He managed to sneak into Vernon Square and rescue my men. He'll be fine."

At the same moment, a soldier in grey clothing ran up and presented himself to Lyons.

"Elder! We... He... We just received a radio transmission."

Lyons looked at him, frowning. All units of the Brotherhood in the ruins of D.C. were ordered to maintain radio silence except in extreme emergency.

"Well, what is it?" the old man said impatiently.

"It's... It's quite strange," the soldier articulated as he tried to catch his breath. "The message came from a man and said that he would from the skies and not to be shot down."

"But, what does it mean?" Lyons said.

"I don't know, but he wasn't using any of our identification codes and I didn't recognize the voice. Still, he seemed to know a lot about us, and he seemed to know you and the Sentinel."

Lyons exchanged glances with his daughter. They didn't understand what this could mean.

"And did he say anything else?" Sarah asked.

"No," said the soldier, shaking his head. "When I asked him to identify himself, he introduced himself as the _'Lone Wanderer'_ and asked not to be shot when he approached. Then the call cut off."

Reilly approached and planted himself in front of the radio operator.

"What did you say his name was?"

"He... He identified himself as the _'Lone Wanderer'_. I checked, it's not part of our identification codes and..."

"Are you sure?" asked Reilly.

The soldier nodded. Reilly turned to her men. They, too, had heard the conversation and seemed to understand. She turned to Lyons and his daughter.

"Care to share with us?" Sarah asked.

"It's him," Reilly said simply. "The _'Lone Wanderer'_, it's him.

"Who... Wait... Was that Franklin on the radio?"

"I'm pretty sure it was. That's the wacky nickname Three Dogs came up with for him."

"Yeah," Donovan added. "He hates the nickname, but I don't know who else would have fun using it."

Lyons turned to the radio operator, who was always there.

"Did he mention something called G.E.C.K.?"

"No Sir," replied the soldier. "By the time I understood, the transmission was cut off. That was five minutes ago, the time I found you to inform you."

At the same time one of the sentries on the building's roof bent over the railing towards Lyons and the others and shouted.

"Enemy aircraft incoming!"

All the soldiers moved as one.

"Wait! Wait! Don't shoot!" Sarah shouted.

Lyons called out to his daughter. His gaze commanded her to explain herself.

"Father, if this is Franklin, then shooting down the aircraft would be disastrous."

"It could also be a trap," Lyons said.

"Father, please."

Lyons looked at his daughter for a brief second before addressing the soldiers in the Citadel.

"Hold your fire! Wait for my command!"

The Vertibird roared past them. It turned around and began to descend. Its undercarriage hit the ground in the center of the courtyard and the engines shut down. All the Brotherhood soldiers and the Rangers took up positions around the aircraft, pointing their weapons at the cockpit, the engines and the side doors of the aircraft.

A few seconds passed in a heavy silence, until the door of the Vertibird slid open.

_(Two hours earlier, around Raven Rock)_

Damian and Fawkes were walking along an old highway, filled with rusty cars and trucks wrecks. Damian was chewing what was left of a pack of Sugar Bombs, eager to eat a real meal once he got to the Citadel.

He and the Super Mutant were discussing literature, philosophy and history. Damian masked his surprise to see a creature like Fawkes so cultured and with a language as rich as his own. The Super Mutant, who preferred the less pejorative term _"meta-human"_, had no memory of his transformation or his life as a human. It only remembered waking up in a test chamber in Vault 87 and after a brief discussion with other Super Mutants, being thrown into the cell where Damian had found it. Luckily, the room he was in had several books in it and Fawkes had begun to read them and memorize some of the passages, waiting for the day of his release.

Damian, on the other hand, had recounted his adventures in the Wastes and had vaguely mentioned his life in Vault 101. The Super Mutant had listened to him and seemed very interested in the different human societies that had emerged in the Wasteland, sometimes commenting by quoting from books he had read during his captivity.

"So you were looking for the G.E.C.K. to fulfill your parents' dream and bring some stability to this devastated world," said Fawkes.

"Yes, but now that the Enclave has the G.E.C.K., things are likely to speed up. The Brotherhood will have to lead the assault to retake the purifier."

Damian felt the weight of the small vial of FEV in his waistband. He had wanted to get rid of it by breaking it and letting its contents evaporate or throwing it as far away as possible, but he had resolved to keep it with him, lest someone find the vial or its effects would be felt after it was released. Nor did he want to give it to the Brotherhood. Although he had some sympathy for Lyons, Sarah and their comrades, he was not sure that the Brotherhood would destroy the virus. Damian knew the Brotherhood's position on ghouls and other mutants in the Wasteland, and he didn't want to risk the Brotherhood using the vial to get rid of it, even after making sure only Super Mutants were affected. He was going to keep the vial and somehow destroy it without anyone knowing.

They were heading South, down a highway that snaked its way through the rocky hills. They had come across a wanderer who at the sight of Fawkes had run away screaming. Fawkes had looked at him sadly, commenting that the influence of his fellow mutants was too deeply ingrained in people's minds to expect any different treatment. Damian had tried to reassure him, but he was also apprehensive about the moment when he would knock on the door of the Citadel or Megaton, accompanied by the Super Mutant.

They were following the highway for about two kilometers and came to a bridge when something caught their attention. An Enclave Vertibird and its crew had landed not far from the road. Damian and Fawkes approached discreetly and took cover behind the median of the highway.

The aircraft must have fled from Raven Rock just before it was destroyed and landed here, probably because of damage or to contact the rest of the Enclave's troops. The pilot, accompanied by a man in a grey suit, was working on one of the aircraft's engines, while the squad stood guard and the officer accompanying them seemed to be talking to someone inside the Vertibird.

A small smirk appeared on Damian's face. He counted the soldiers in the Enclave and looked at the area around them.

"I think I've found a less tiring way than walking," he said smiling to Fawkes.

Five minutes later, Damian and Fawkes were in position. The Super Mutant activated its laser gatling and opened fire. Taken by surprise, most of the soldiers didn't have time to take cover. The laser rays were bouncing off the plates of their power armor, but the rate of fire was such that the rays would either penetrate the metal or melt it.

Damian eliminated two soldiers and the officer. He saw that the blades of the propellers were starting to spin. He jumped over his cover and sprinted towards the aircraft, holding his rifle in one hand and his pistol in the other. He jumped inside the Vertibird. In the cockpit, the pilot and co-pilot were trying to take off. When they heard Damian, they turned around. The co-pilot tried to grab the gun from his waist, but Damian did not let him time to do it and shot. The back of his skull exploded, spilling a wreath of blood and brains all over the windscreen and controls.

Damian aimed his gun at the pilot who raised his hands in the air.

"Cut the engines," Damian barked.

The pilot quickly nodded, and the sound of the engines began to diminish until they shut off. Damian glanced out the window and through the door. All the soldiers were dead, and Fawkes had joined him. The Super Mutant tied his gatling around his broad neck and inspected the interior of the aircraft with an interested and fascinated look.

Damian turned his attention to the pilot, still strapped in his seat and still raising his hands. He motioned for him to get up and ordered him to get rid of the co-pilot's body. The man looked at the disfigured and blood-covered head of his comrade and then turned his head towards Fawkes. He stood up slowly and pulled the co-pilot's body to the door. Damian kicked the corpse out.

The aircraft collapsed slightly as Fawkes went inside. He couldn't stand upright and bent forward to enter the cabin. Damian went to the pilot's seat and searched for a weapon. He turned around and pointed his gun at the pilot. The pilot closed his eyes.

"You're going to get this thing off the ground and take us to the Citadel."

"Wh... Where? asked the surprised pilot, who was stunned that he wasn't dead already.

"The Brotherhood of Steel headquarters in the ruins of D.C. near the Potomac. You will take us there."

"No," said the pilot, mustering all the courage he had left.

His gaze slid to the traces of blood in the cockpit and the pieces of brains slowly sliding down the windshield. Damian hit him in the forehead with the butt of his pistol. The pilot stumbled to the ground and held his face. He felt the cold barrel of Damian's gun on his head.

"Look, you're still alive because I know you can fly this thing. So, either you take me to the Citadel and stay alive, or I'll have my friend throw you off that bridge and see if you can fly without your Vertibird.

The pilot looked up at Fawkes who was staring at him. The pilot nodded. Damian stepped aside to let him settle in while Fawkes closed the door.

Damian sat down on one of the seats so he could hold the pilot at gunpoint. The aircraft started to hum and slowly rose into the sky. Damian could feel that the engines were struggling to support the aircraft and he could see the pilot clinging to the control column and constantly checking the fuel and engine gauges.

After about ten minutes, Damian got up and settled into the co-pilot's seat. He wiped the blood off the dashboard and looked for the radio. He put the headphones over his ears and started to scan the different frequencies. Fawkes sat behind the driver and put his big hand on the seat, silently advising the pilot to keep quiet.

Damian switched the different frequencies. Most of them were silent, he found some of them broadcasting Morse code messages. He vaguely remembered one of the Brotherhood frequencies. Sarah had spoken to him briefly about it when he was staying at the Citadel.

Damian heard Three Dog's voice in one of the frequencies. He was talking about life in the Wastes, rejoicing that everything was as usual, monotonous and interspersed with brief storms of violence. He switched to the frequency mentioned by Sarah and started to talk.

"Citadel, please come in."

There was no response. Damian tried again when a annoyed voice came through the speakers of his helmet.

"_This is the Citadel, you are using a military radio frequency, please get off the air immediately."_

"Finally," sighed Damian.

"_Leave the airwaves immediately, this is a military frequency and civilians are not allowed. Identify yourself or leave the airwaves."_

Damian was silent for a few seconds. Almost no one at the Citadel knew his name. Presenting himself as Damian Franklin would get him nowhere.

"Look, I need to speak urgently to Elder Lyons or his daughter. It's very important."

The radio operator at the Citadel didn't answer. Damian heard him sigh. Some interference began to penetrate the frequency.

Damian turned to the pilot.

"What's going on with the radio?" he whistled.

"The explosion at Raven Rock damaged the antenna," the pilot replied. "We found out as we fled. It's a miracle you can pick up anything with it."

"_For the last time, identify yourself or clear this frequency,"_ repeated the annoyed radio operator.

Damian sighed. An idea came to him.

"I am the Lone Wanderer, Damian said. "Tell Lyons that I'm coming from the air and to not shoot at me."

Damian got no answer. He repeated his message, but only parasites responded. He sighed and pulled the helmet out of his ears. Through the windscreen he recognized Arefu and saw Megaton in the distance. He turned towards the pilot.

"We'll be there soon," the pilot said nervously.

"Good," Damian spat at him. If you try to branch off to the Jefferson Memorial or think about firing on the Brotherhood, I'll blow your head off."

He waved his gun at the pilot's face.

"If you kill me in midair," replied the pilot nervously looking into the barrel of the gun. "We'll crash and end up in the river or a building."

"You'll be dead before then and that's a risk I'm willing to take," Damian said.

The Vertibird approached the Citadel at full speed. Damian could see the small silhouettes of the soldiers moving about on the roof and around the Citadel. He hadn't been shot yet, but Damian waited with apprehension for the moment when the aircraft would come under fire from sentries or be hit by a rocket. In that case, the aircraft would spin out of control and end up in a pile of crumpled metal.

"Land in the center of the yard," Damian replied, placing his gun against the pilot's skull. "And remember. I'd rather take my chances in a crash than let you do something stupid."

The pilot flew over the courtyard before turning around and landing slowly.

"Cut the engines and get up," Damian said.

The pilot complied. Damian motioned for him to get into one of the passenger seats, fasten his seat belt and put his hands on his head with his fingers crossed. Fawkes stepped forward and grabbed his laser gatling.

"It's best that you stay out of sight for the moment," Damian said. "I'll let you know when you can come out."

Fawkes nodded his head. He sat between the pilot and co-pilot seats and faced their prisoner. Damian made sure the pilot wasn't going to try anything and looked out the windscreen. He could see the Brotherhood soldiers and their laser guns pointed at the Vertibird. He headed for the door. He put his hand on the handle and took a deep breath before pulling it and sliding the door.

Lyons, Sarah, several soldiers in power armor, and to his surprise, Reilly and her men, stood before him with their rifles or pistols pointed at him. Damian slowly raised his hands in the air.

"Lower your weapons!" Lyons ordered. "Put your guns down!"

Damian heard the safety click into place or the energy weapons diminish in power. He jumped out of the device and walked to Lyons.

"I'm glad to see you alive," said the Elder of the Brotherhood. "But would you be so kind as to explain to me what that means."

He pointed to the Vertibird with a gesture.

"It's quite a long story," said Damian. "But we have more important things to deal with! Berry is dead and..."

"Yes," replied Lyons. "The Star Paladin Cross and the Scribe Hood returned shortly before you made your… Entrance, and informed me of the situation."

"They did? Are they all right?" Damian asked immediately. "Hood was injured and..."

"They're fine, Lyons gently cut him off. "Hood's in the infirmary and Cross will probably be glad to know you're safe, too."

Damian seemed relieved. He had feared that the young scribe's injury would be fatal to her in the long run, or that they would be ambushed on the way home.

"Cross told us that you entered Vault 87 alone," Lyons continued. "What's your story? Do you have it? Were you able to find the G.E.C.K.?"

Damian looked at Lyons, Sarah, and everyone else present.

"No, I mean, yes, but..."

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked, frowning. "Do you have it or not?"

"I had it," Damian answered. "I managed to find it with the help of someone, but the Enclave captured me and brought me back to their base in the mountains to the Northwest."

Lyons turned to a soldier who nodded and began to move towards the interior of the Citadel.

"It's no use," Damian intervened. "Their base is completely destroyed, but that's not the most important thing right now. The Enclave has taken the G.E.C.K. to the Jefferson Memorial and they must be connecting it to the purifier right now, if it hasn't already."

"Then we need to move as quickly as possible."

Lyons turned to the soldier again. He headed inside the Citadel, gathering several other soldiers with him.

"Explain everything to me in detail," Lyons said as he returned to Damian. You mention someone who helped you retrieve the G.E.C.K."

"Yes, I did."

Damian turned to the Vertibird.

"Fawkes, you can come and get our pilot friend out, too."

The pilot jumped out of the plane and was immediately flanked by two soldiers and escorted away. Fawkes made his appearance. All the soldiers present pointed their weapons at him. Damian rushed to the Super Mutant and faced the Brotherhood and Rangers with his arms raised.

"Don't shoot!" he shouted. "He's on our side!"

"On our side?" said Donovan. "Are you kidding me? He's a fucking Super Mutant!"

"Listen to me! Damian shouted. I assure you he's with us and he won't try anything!"

Damian looked at Fawkes and asked him to put his gun on the ground and put his hands up. The Super Mutant did so and dropped his laser gatling in front of the nervous and hateful eyes of the Brotherhood soldiers.

"I met him in Vault 87," Damian said. "He's not like the other Super Mutants and without him, I would never have been able to get the G.E.C.K. He then followed my captors and helped me capture this Vertibird."

Damian looked Lyons in the eye.

"Trust me," he said.

Lyons stared at the Super Mutant for long seconds. He signaled his men to lower their weapons.

"Sir," asked one of the soldiers. "This is..."

"I know what it is," Lyons said. "Put your weapons down. He can stay, but he's unarmed and must not leave you or he'll be shot."

Damian thanked him with a nod. The soldiers sheathed their weapons and Fawkes was able to put his hands down. He turned to Lyons and bowed forward.

"I thank you," he said to Damian. "Once again you've pulled me out of a difficult situation."

"Yeah, well, stay close to me as long as we're here."

Lyons approached them. He gave a suspicious glance at Fawkes. The Super Mutant sat on the floor and folded his arms.

"Tell me what happened," Lyons said.

* * *

**Chapter is a little short, mainly because when I translate, I realize that I can write the same thing with less words.**

**Hope you enjoyed. Next time, the final battle will be upon Damian and the Brotherhood. How will it turn out? What will be the fate of the Capital Wasteland? Find out next time.**


	42. Chapter 42: 21:6

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

Damian told Lyons and the others what he had seen in the base of the Enclave and how he had managed to destroy it. He voluntary did not mention the vial of FEV in his pocket. Everyone looked astonished when Damian mentioned that President Eden was not a human, but a pre-war A.I. which became self-aware. Rothchild, who had joined them, asked him many questions about the nature of Eden, but Lyons asked him to keep his questions for a later time.

Fawkes briefly took over when Damian mentioned that Vault 87 was the birthplace of the Super Mutants.

"We'll have to deal with that once we've taken care of the Enclave," Lyons said. "Now that we know where they come from, we can strike at the root."

"Yes, but for now, we have bigger problems. If we don't do anything, we're going to lose Project Purity," Damian said.

He was burning with anticipation. He felt that the end was near. He knew that taking the purifier would be a real bloodbath, but if the Enclave managed to get it up and running and had another sample of the modified FEV, then the Capital Wasteland would quickly become a giant mass grave.

"Follow me," said Lyons.

He gave a suspicious glance at Fawkes who slowly got up and stood behind Damian and followed him without saying a word. As he passed, the soldiers moved aside and glanced at him with mistrust, hatred, and curiosity. Some had never seen a Super Mutant so close, let alone one that hadn't already tried to rip their heads or guts off.

Lyons entered the Citadel's laboratory. Damian walked in and was stunned by what he saw.

The structure in the center of the laboratory no longer had the large white curtains and sheets he had seen when he had last been there. Instead, standing in the middle of the laboratory and surrounded by four steel pillars painted red, was a giant human shaped robot.

Damian descended the stairs to find himself at the feet of the enormous machine.

Cumulating at a height of 12 meters, the machine was grey whit heavy steel armor covering his chest, shoulders, wrists and ankles. His head was oval, with only a blue line where the eyes should have been. On the right shoulder, a red star in a white circle was painted.

"Wow..." Damian whispered.

"Impressive, huh?"

Damian turned his head. Sarah stood next to him and smiled proudly.

"What the hell is that thing?" Damian asked.

"Let me explain."

Rothchild stood between him and the robot. A small hint of pride pierced through his eyes.

"This, is Liberty Prime."

"Did… Did you build that thing?" Damian asked with his eyes glued to the robot.

Rothchild laughed and shook his head.

"No, no one today is capable of building such a thing. Liberty Prime was built before the Great War, to repel the Chinese invasion of Alaska. Unfortunately for him, no one was able to make it work and he has been here until we found him about 30 years ago."

Rothchild observed a short pause, allowing Damian to imagine what a giant robot like this one would have performed in the Anchorage simulation.

"This little marvel of technology is our secret weapon," resumed Rothchild. "Since the Enclave took Project Purity and you escaped with the Purifier scientists, Doctor Li and I have been trying to get it working again."

"And it will allow us to take back the purifier?" Damian asked.

"Well...,"

Rothchild looked at Lyons who had stayed on the bridge.

"It's pretty complicated, let's just say..."

Lyons cleared his throat and all activity in the lab ceased. The soldiers lined up and stood at attention.

"Brothers and Sisters of the Brotherhood, comrades of the Reilly's Rangers," Lyons said. "We are at the edge of a battle that will determine the fate of the Capital Wasteland. Our enemy, the Enclave is in possession of Project Purity and we will take it back."

He watched the soldiers face him in silence.

"I won't hide from you that this will be a perilous undertaking and many of us will not return. Thanks to the young son of James and Catherine Franklin, the architects of Project Purity, we know that the Enclave no longer has a base."

A slight wave of satisfied exclamations rose.

"However," Lyons resumed, waving his men quietly. "All the Enclave lack now is the activation code of the purifier, and it's probably only a matter of time before they discover it and activate the purifier."

He observed silence and turned to his daughter.

"Sentinel Lyons."

Sarah stepped forward and stood at attention.

"You and the Pride will lead the assault. But you will have access to support. Scribe Rothchild."

"Elder?" replied the scribe as he stepped forward.

"Is it ready?"

"No, I mean yes, but... Diagnostic tests were not very conclusive, although Li and I were able to solve the power supply problems. Prime isn't ready for field tests yet, let alone combat."

"Can you make it work or not?" barked Lyons.

"I can try," Rothchild answered shyly.

All eyes were on him as he headed for the main terminal. He activated the computer. Nothing happened and Damian could hear whispers of disappointment and frustration around him. If pre-war America was unable to figure how to make a machine such as Liberty Prime, it would be an impossible task for the Brotherhood.

Rothchild mumbled to himself and tried again.

The robot rumbled and a deep voice thundered and shook the walls of the Citadel.

_"Liberty Prime is online. All systems nominal. Weapons hot. Mission: The destruction of any and all Chinese Communists and the liberation of Anchorage, Alaska."_

The voice was so powerful that Damian felt it resonate in his chest cavity.

Suddenly, a tremor shook the laboratory. All soldiers, and scribes looked at each other. Lyons turned towards the door leading to the courtyard and saw a soldier running at him.

"What's happening?"

"Elder, the Enclave are shelling this bank of the Potomac!"

"Looks like they won't wait for us to attack," spat Sarah.

Lyons faced the soldiers in the laboratory.

"Get back to your units, soldiers! Sentinel Lyons, I want your men on the front! You, he added to the soldier next to him. Make sure our sentries on the roof have enough ammo and AA capacity! Now!"

The soldier stood at attention and rushed outside, while a second detonation resounded above their head.

Damian looked around him. All the soldiers were running toward the exit. He had seen many pictures of soldiers going off to war or on the eve of a great battle, but he never imagined he would see them with his own eyes, let alone take part in them. He felt fear growing inside him. It was different from the fear he had felt in the Wasteland, when he walked through the dark tunnels of the subway or the ruins of D.C. looking for his father. He felt a hand on his arm. He turned around and saw Sarah standing beside him.

"Come on, I'll explain you the plan on the way."

Damian nodded and followed the young woman and the Pride soldiers in one of the corridors. Behind them, an alarm began to sound. Orange lights, installed on the pillars surrounding Liberty Prime, began to flash. A hatch above the robot opened and let in daylight.

"We'll set up a defensive perimeter on the outskirts of the Citadel, while the robot is lifted out," explained Sarah. "We expect the robot to do all the dirty work, but it looks like it will need some help."

They continued toward the exit and walked pass some other Brotherhood units.

"The Enclave have set up MG nests and snipers between the FSK bridge and the purifier. We'll have some support unit on this bank to suppress their troop while we advance with Liberty Prime."

She glanced at Damian for a second.

"I won't lie to you. It will be harder and bloodier than everything you've experienced so far, and if you want to…"

"I'm all in," Damian replied.

Sarah nodded and smiled.

"We wanted to make this all official and stuff, but we lack time right now."

"What do you mean?" asked Damian.

"We, my father and I, had a talk about you, and we have decided that, regarding everything you've done for the Brotherhood, you'd be granted an honorary membership of our Chapter."

"I… That's…"

"I also talked to my men," cut Sarah off. "And we all agreed that you should also become part of the Pride. Congratulations, Knight Franklin."

"Welcome aboard, buddy," Damian heard behind him.

He looked at Sarah and the others and smiled shyly.

"We'll celebrate later, and you can thank us by buying some beer once we are finished. Right now, we need to give you some armor," said the Sentinel. "Each Brotherhood Knight and Pride member receives T-45 power armor but given the short time we have and the training it takes to wear one, this privilege will have to wait until after the battle."

On their way, they crossed Reilly and her men getting ready for battle.

"Looks like it's going to be way harder than in Vernon," said Brick as she loaded her minigun.

"All you have to do, is set up defensive positions on the banks and we wait for the Brotherhood to start their robot," said Reilly.

"Easier said than done," murmured Butcher.

Damian and Sarah stopped as they approached them.

"Hey, Franklin. Seems like destroying their base made those assholes really pissed," said Reilly.

She looked at him from head to toe and realized that he was not wearing any armor.

Before Damian could explain, he saw Butcher removing his breastplate and handing it to him.

"Here, take mine," the Rangers medic said.

"Are you sure?" asked the young man.

"Take it. I'm still not fully fit for combat and I'd be more useful at the rear treating the wounded than on the front with my SMG. Speaking of which, can you guys show me where you plan to install your triage center?"

"Yes, Kodiak, show him."

A tall African American man in power armor approached and motioned to Butcher to follow him while Donovan helped Damian put on the armor who immediately felt at ease.

"Okay, guys, you stay with Franklin and the Brotherhood and you follow the Sentinel's orders," said Reilly to her two remaining subordinates.

"Colvin, I want you, Dusk and Gallows to set up at a window and provide sniper fire," ordered Sarah to some of her men. "Glade, you set up on the bank with the Ranger girl and you suppress the enemy. Watch for their Vertibird. If you see one coming in for a gun run, you shoot it."

They all looked at each other and nodded.

"Great, you all know what you have to do. Let's rock!"

They all left the corridor toward the courtyard.

Outside, they could hear gunfire and explosions. In the courtyard, a large construction crane lifted the robot above the Citadel. Damian noticed that the Vertibird he had stolen, had been pushed aside and was already being inspected by a group of scribes.

They heard a loud crash and turned toward the main gate of the Citadel. The robot had just entered the wall and concrete blocks were falling off and onto the floor.

The soldier in the crane cab backed the machine up and lifted the robot even higher this time, over the roof and onto the street.

Damian went through the big door. Unmentionable chaos reigned. Never since the Anchorage simulation had he seen such an outburst of violence. On the bank, facing the buildings across the river, several Brotherhood soldiers, were taking cover behind the field or a wrecked car, and were firing at the Enclave troops. Damian saw several Brotherhood soldiers, behind a rusty car shooting at a Vertibird unloading a group of Enclave soldiers.

On the bridge, the Enclave had troops stationed, and they were firing towards the Citadel gate and throwing grenades to the soldiers approaching the bridge a little too close.

The Vertibird swarmed around them, landing, dropping several squads of enemy soldiers and taking off to provide fire support. Explosions thundered everywhere, and from time to time a sheaf of earth or water would appear where a shell had hit.

Damian, Sarah, the Rangers, Fawkes and Brotherhood soldiers rushed to the rocks in front of the Citadel main door. They managed to take cover and began to retaliate.

Damian looked over his shoulder and saw that the robot was slowly being put on the ground. He turned toward the opposite bank of the Potomac and raised his assault rifle over his cover and shot.

"What the hell's the robot doing? It ain't movin'!

Damian looked in the direction of Liberty Prime. The giant robot was inert. Tiny sparks flashed on his chest or head when a bullet or laser beam crashed into his armor.

A Vertibird passed over the river. It swung around and started firing at the door and at Prime with his heavy machineguns. The soldiers took cover behind the machine while a small handful of them were torn apart by the shots.

Liberty Prime finally moved. Its head followed the Vertibird's movements and its big voice thundered again.

_"Initiating directive 7395: Destroy all Communists!"_

The blue stripe on its head gradually lit up and a blue ray glowed from it. The ray flew to the Vertibird and severed one of its wings. The aircraft began a series of spins and ended its course in the river, lifting a huge sheaf of water in its fall.

_"Engaging Communist targets! China will fall! Democracy will win!"_

Liberty Prime swung to the side and began to walk, the ground trembling with each step. Its laser beam fired again and again, vaporizing the soldiers of the Enclave on the bridge or turning them into a human torch.

Damian exchanged a half-terrified, half-fascinated look with Sarah. They were all happy that Liberty Prime was on their side. The robot approached the bridge, its big voice spreading anti-communist propaganda. Almost all of the Enclave soldiers were now focusing their fire on it, but no projectile seemed to seriously damage or stop it

Fear had disappeared. Seeing this giant robot, insensitive to the Enclave's fire, and capable of destroying a Vertibird in a single shot, Damian felt that victory would only be a matter of time. Liberty Prime would act as a steamroller and pave the way to the Jefferson Memorial, and all the forces of the Enclave that stood in its way would be destroyed. Damian would only have to follow the huge machine and once inside the purifier, he could take on Autumn and the rest of the Enclave's surviving troops.

A rocket whistled and fell on Prime's head, which came to rest. Damian feared he had thought too quickly. Prime was motionless and seemed to have shut down. Suddenly, the robot turned to face one of the buildings across the river. A second rocket whistled but just missed him and ended up in the ruins behind him.

Liberty Prime activated its laser beam. The beam hit the building hard and part of the facade collapsed. Prime put its right hand behind its back and grabbed a large oval-shaped, beige object. Prime raised its left arm towards the building and pointed its index finger at the hole in the façade. It cocked its right arm and stayed there for a fraction of a second.

Seeing Prime taking this pose, Damian could not help but see an American football player ready to throw the ball. Prime threw the object in his hand towards the building. Damian had just enough time to realize that the object in question was a miniature nuclear warhead. He and his companions looked away and covered their ears when Sarah shouted at them to do so.

The warhead whistled and entered precisely through the hole in the front of the building before exploding. When he opened his eyes, Damian saw that the building was collapsing and that a small mushroom cloud was forming at the impact site.

"The Enclave troops on the bridge are retreating!" shouted one of the soldiers.

Damian turned his head toward the bridge and saw several human silhouettes on the bridge, running away to the opposite bank.

"Don't let them reorganize! Attack!"

The Brotherhood soldiers rushed toward the bridge. Damian followed Sarah, while behind them, Liberty Prime has started to cross the river

On the bridge, carnage laid before their eyes. Amidst the rusty wrecks of cars and the barricades set up by the Enclave, corpses littered the street. Bodies still crammed into power armor, shredded limbs, puddles of blood, skeletons burnt and still smoking, small piles of hot ashes. Prime walked through the chaos, paying no attention to anything in his path, whether it was a car, a wall of sandbags or a dead body.

Amidst the dead bodies and torn-off limbs, wounded Enclave soldiers crawled on the ground

Prime had already crossed the bridge in a few short strides and was now engaging Enclave troops on the other side. It turned its head on a group of Vertibird approaching him and prepared to send another warhead towards one of the aircraft.

Damian and the others took cover behind wrecked cars and sandbags, just before the group of Vertibird flew over them, all guns blazing. Slowly, Liberty Prime turned around and sent a warhead on the group of aircrafts.

Several others Vertibirds appeared and focused their fire on the giant robot, allowing the Brotherhood soldiers, Damian and his companions to cross the bridge.

On their way, they ran past wounded Enclave soldiers, screaming and crawling away, their legs torn off or crushed. Behind him, he could hear gunshots from Brotherhood soldiers, executing the wounded.

The road leading to Jefferson Memorial was blocked by debris from the collapsed building. Some of the Enclave soldiers were still sheltering in the ruins or behind the concrete mounds. At the end of the street, the Enclave had set up machinegun nests in a building. Several soldiers of the Brotherhood were hit by the hail of bullets that fell on them.

"Suppressive fire on that MG!" yelled Sarah.

Sheltered behind a wrecked car, Damian and the others started to fire at the building, waiting for Liberty Prime to finish destroying the Vertibirds still flying around him.

"Vargas, get some men in that building on the right!"

The second in command of the Lyons' Pride and a few other soldiers, ran to the collapsed building. Damian looked over his shoulder. Liberty Prime had resumed walking was heading their way. In the meantime, Glade and Brick had joined them. The Brotherhood heavy weapon specialist had brought with him a rocket launcher team. He aimed his minigun at some Enclave troops crossing the street and heading to a small square where a metro exit was located.

Sarah reloaded her laser rifle and looked at the rocket launcher team. Damian could hear her talk to them, but did not understood what she said, as a shell fell right next to them, killing some Brotherhood soldiers.

"Willie Pete! Building at the end of the road, second widow from the right, top floor!"

Damian flattened on the ground just before the rocket fired. When he looked over his cover, he saw thick white smoke coming from the window hit by the rocket, as well as sparks of light in the smoke. The moment after, silhouettes of Enclave soldiers jumped from the windows. Smoke was coming from their bodies and parts of their power amors seemed on fire and glowed.

Liberty Prime walked over Damian and the others and down the road before passing over the debris of the building. He shot out all the windows of the surrounding buildings and threw his fist at any soldiers who dared to venture into his field of vision. He turned the corner and Damian and the others rushed after him.

The dike separating the Tidal Basin from the Potomac was empty, except the burning wreck of a Vertibird. Prime was standing in front of the force field set up by the Enclave to isolate the purifier.

_"Alert! Obstruction detected. Composition, titanium alloy supplemented by photonic resonance barrier. Probability of mission hindrance: zero percent!"_

Prime advanced to the barrier. Electric arcs surrounded him. He grabbed the pillar on the left and then the pillar on the right. The blue light from the force field intensified. Damian heard a detonation on his left and saw a rocket hit Prime on the back of the head.

On a little square to the left, overlooking the Basin, a two Vertibird were starting to land and dropping troops to reinforce enemy positions while on the opposite bank of the Basin, Enclave soldiers were coming out of the building and started to shoot at them.

"It's a whole other company!"

The Brotherhood took position on the bank and fired back.

"You!" yelled Sarah to a group of Brotherhood soldiers who had just arrived in reinforcement. "On me, we need to get to that square and flank them!"

She started to run, followed by Damian and the group of soldiers. They went back on the road they had just took and where Brotherhood medics were taking the wounded back and fresh troops were coming in with ammunitions.

They headed right, behind a large building and ran to the little square where the Vertibird had landed. After throwing several grenades, they rushed in to eliminate the Enclave soldiers. Damian and Sarah took cover at the edge of the square, behind a small wall. From there, they could see the enemy positions and several defenses the Enclave had set up, like trenches and foxholes, all oriented towards Rivet City.

_"I am Liberty Prime. I am... America!"_

Damian turned his head to the Jefferson Memorial. From where he was, he could still hear Prime's deep voice. The robot had just deactivated the force field and was firing at the Enclave troops entrenched near the Memorial.

"Enclave troops in the open!"

Damian looked in front of him and saw that all the Enclave soldiers were running away to the Jefferson Memorial or Rivet City and the ruins, abandoning their positions.

Sarah and the other, ran to the next square. There, they set up position near a road and fired at the retreating Enclave forces. Damian reloaded his rifle and next to him, he could hear a Brotherhood soldier, counting, every time he fired.

"Our troops are at the Memorial! Let's go!" shouted Sarah.

They ran along the Basin, passing by empty trenches and foxholes and dead Enclave soldiers.

They linked up with Vargas and the rest of the Brotherhood, at the door of the Jefferson Memorial.

"Vargas" said Sarah. You and half the Pride take care of enemy reinforcements! Keep them out of the purifier! The rest of you, inside with me!"

Damian followed Sarah and several soldiers into the purifier's gift shop, while Donovan was taking over a disabled mortar with Brick and pointing it to Rivet City and the ruins.

There weren't many Enclave soldiers inside the Jefferson Memorial. Only a few officers and scientists were there. Damian rushed to the rotunda, shooting every soldier or scientist he came across, not caring whether they were trying to surrender or not.

"You two, secure the basement, I'll take the rotunda with Franklin and the Super Mutant," said Sarah.

The two soldiers nodded to the leader and broke down the door leading to the basement, crushing one of the scientists hiding behind.

A laser beam passed within inches of Damian and Sarah's heads. Several soldiers from the Enclave had managed to get through. Sarah, Damian and Fawkes dove to safety.

Sarah straightened up and fired several shots.

"Fawkes, stay with Sarah. She's going to need your help. I'll deal with the control room."

The Super Mutant grabbed his laser gatling and sent a long burst to allow Damian to enter the rotunda.

He entered the control room and ran into two Enclave soldiers and easily eliminated them. He walked up the stairs and heard a gunshot. Damian turned his head and saw Autumn holding a pistol.

Damian took cover behind one of the columns of the rotunda and heard the bullet hit in the marble of the wall.

"You are definitely a resilient person," Autumn told him. "But I'm not really surprised. You and your friends have done everything in your power to destroy what our government has sought to build."

Damian glanced behind his cover and saw marble shards flying as Autumn fired.

"This time, Eden won't be there to save your ass."

A tremor shook the building. Damian felt dust falling on his skull. He looked up. If the fighting continued at this intensity, Jefferson Memorial would suffer severe damage.

Damian sprang from behind the column and fired. Autumn was not there. He heard a yell and saw the Colonel hitting his hands with a fire extinguisher. Damian dropped his rifle and dodged a second blow.

Autumn raised his pistol and shot, while Damian jumped behind a column. His right hand was hurting.

"It's over Colonel," said Damian. "You lost. In a minute, your troops will surrender and…"

Damian felt a burn on his left arm. Autumn had just shot him. Damian grabbed his pistol. He jumped from his cover and fired, hitting Autumn in the shoulder. The Enclave officer retaliated and hit Damian on the right hip. Damian tripped and unloaded his gun on the Colonel. Each time his finger pulled the trigger and he felt the recoil of the gun in his wrist and up his arm to his shoulder, Damian saw his father's face again, dying, kneeling in the control room as the radiation devoured his flesh and body.

The magazine was empty, but Damian continued to pull the trigger. Autumn had collapsed to the ground, his body riddled with bullets. Damian approached the body and stared at it for several seconds.

He felt no satisfaction. No joy. He had finally gotten his revenge. He had killed those at the head of the Enclave and avenged those responsible for James' death, but it hadn't changed anything. In the end, he still felt the same emptiness, and Autumn's death and all those soldiers in the Enclave hadn't brought his father back.

Damian could still hear gunshots outside. He looked down at his wound. He only had a scratch on his arm, his hip was bleeding. Nothing serious, but he could feel the warn and sticky blood on his cloth and leg. He groaned in pain and searched for a Stimpack when he heard Doctor Li's voice echoed through the control room intercom system. She seemed nervous and begged for an answer. Damian climbed the stairs to the control room and answered her.

"Doctor Li, it's Damian. I'm at the control room, what's going on?"

_"Thank God, you made it! Listen, we have a serious problem. The site has been damaged in the fighting and the sensors I have in front of me are going crazy. Pressure is boiling in the tanks."_

"What do you mean?" asked Damian.

_"I don't know! But if we don't reduce the pressure very quickly, the whole site will explode!"_

"How is that possible? We made sure not to hit the building directly and…"

"_I don't know why or how, but it's happening, and if we don't do anything quick, the whole place will explode!"_

Damian looked up as another explosion shook the building.

"What can I do to stop it from exploding?"

Madison Li felt silent for a moment.

"_You… You'll have to get into the control room and activate the purifier. But... Radiation levels are probably lethal in there, since… Last time."_

Damian looked through the control room window. He could hear the clicking of his Pip-Boy's Geiger counter. If he entered the control room, he would not come out. The purifier had to be activated, but how could it be done without the code.

Suddenly, he remembered his mother's favorite phrase. _"__I shall give unto him who is athirst the fountain of the waters of life freely."_. The Bible verses. Revelation 21:6. Alpha and Omega. The Beginning and the End.

Damian smiled. He had finally understood. He entered the airlock leading to the control room. And alarm sounded throughout the rotunda. The control room was in the same condition as when he had last left it, littered with electrical wires and cables. The diodes on the control consoles were lighting up at an alarming rate.

Damian closed the airlock behind him. He was calm, serene, despite the annoying alarm ringing in his ears. Next to the control panel of the doors, Damian saw that the Enclave had installed a small device, allowing someone to put in a vial.

"What the hell are you doing, Franklin? Get out of there immediately!"

Damian turned his head. Sarah had entered the rotunda and was standing at the glass and tried unsuccessfully to activate the door control.

"Now is not the time to play heroes! Get out of there!"

Damian couldn't think of anything to say to her and just smiled at her. He looked at a spot on the floor in front of him, on the other side of the door. A sad smile appeared on his face as he looked up at the statue of Thomas Jefferson. He ran his left hand through his hair.

"That's it...," he whispered to himself. "Everything is going to end where it started. The circle is finally complete."

He activated the airlock control and the door to the control room opened. The sizzling of his Pip-Boy intensified, and he felt tingling all over his body. He walked to the main console. As he walked forward, he remembered all the events that had led him to this situation. His escape from Vault 101, his quest to find his father, the horrible simulation of Vault 112, the journey back with his father to Rivet City, The Enclave and James' death, his search for the G.E.C.K., and finally the destruction of Raven Rock.

He thought of all the people he had met. People who had helped him like Simms or Three Dogs. The people he had helped, Red and the folks of Big Town, Lucy West. He thought of Moira and realized how much he regretted not being able to help her finish her book. To the children of Little Lamplight.

He thought of Somah, Paulson, Elliot, Sally and the other captives of the alien spaceship and remembered his escape from the alien ship, which looked a lot like a pre-war comic book.

He thought of all the people who had tried to kill him and whom he had killed, their faces flashing before his eyes. The people who had died to help him since his release from the Vault.

He heard a bang next him and saw Sarah, smashing the butt of her laser rifle on the glass. She casted panicked glances at him and was begging him to stop.

Damian stood in front of the control console where the keypad was located to enter the code for the purifier. His thoughts turned to Amata. A tear ran down his cheek. He had promised himself he would return to the Vault to see her again. Unfortunately, it was a promise he could not keep it and he would never again have the opportunity to tell her how he felt about her.

Finally, he thought of his father who had sacrificed his dream and the future of humanity to offer his son a life far from the dangers of the Wasteland. His father, who had later preferred to sacrifice himself rather than see Project Purity fall into the hands of the Enclave and who had saved his son's life at the same time.

Damian painfully raised his hand to the console keyboard. He pressed the keys corresponding to the code. 216. 21:6. The Alpha and the Omega.

He would see his father again and finally meet his mother. He entered the code and a jolt shook the control room and he stumbled and fell on his back. The alarm had fallen silent, as had the battle detonations, and Sarah had finally stopped banging on the window. Everything was silent.

Damian tried to get up but was unable to. He had been so close to die so many times that he could not remember all of them. A faint smiled appeared on his face. It was certainly not the death he had wanted. He had always thought that he would die, in his bed after a long and peaceful life. Unlike what he had imagined about dying, it was not as scary.

The tingles in his body where getting stronger, to a point where it was beginning to hurt, and Damian started to fear that he would die a horrible and painful death, or that he would turn into a ghoul. His vision got blurry and a white veil started to cover his eyes.

"Son."

Damian recognized his father's voice. He smiled. Despite the white veil, he could see him clearly, next to a woman smiling at him.

"Damian," smiled the woman. "I'm so proud of you, honey."

Damian could feel tears running down on his face and cheeks.

"Mom, Dad, I'm coming."

* * *

**This is it. Damian's journey has come to an end.**

**I hope that you liked the story, as much as I liked writing it (or playing it, should I say).**

**Again, massive thanks to all of you who have read/followed/favorite this story.**

**I hope I'll be coming back soon (quarantine is a plus for writing stuff) with other Fallout or why not other stuff on this website.**

**Apologies if my English was, "messy" or if there was any mistakes I did not see or mistranslated some words or sentences.**

**Thank you again for reading**

**Until next time.**


	43. Chapter 43: Shock and Awe

**Remember when I said it was the end? I lied.**

* * *

Damian slowly opened his eyes. A cracked concrete ceiling stood before his eyes. He slowly turned his head. He was in an infirmary. A Mister Gutsy robot, painted in khaki, was slowly levitating above the floor and carefully cleaning medical utensils.

The soothing sound of a radio playing a jazz tune in a nearby room could be heard over the clattering of utensils and the humming of several computers, used to monitor a patient's vital signs.

Damian slowly straightened up. He felt strange, like he was coming out of a long dream. He felt a warm wrinkled hand against his arm.

"Take it easy," said the voice of an old man.

Damian blinked several times until his vision became clear and he recognized Elder Lyons. The old Elder looked relieved and helped Damian sit on the bed. Damian wanted to talk, but he felt a tube in his mouth that went down his throat. He pulled it out with a grimace and almost threw up before dropping it on the bed.

"What... What happened? Where am I?" Damian asked.

"It's all right. You're safe now. We're at the Citadel, in the infirmary."

Damian massaged his face and the top of his skull, trying to reorganize his thoughts.

"I was beginning to think you'd never wake up," Lyons said. "I've come every day to visit you and my daughter. At least one of you finally came out of coma."

Memories flooded into Damian's mind. He turned to Lyons.

"The purifier, I… I activated it, and then... What happened? Sarah was by the control room, too, when... Is she okay? Where is she? What about the Enclave? Did we win? Project Purity? Did we..."

"Slow down," Lyons cut him off in a calm but authoritative voice.

Damian felt he was dizzy. He wanted to get up, but Lyons stopped him.

"You have to relax," Lyons said, forcing Damian to remain seated. "Don't force too much."

Damian caught his breath and closed his eyes for a few seconds.

"You were in the control room when there was a strong surge of energy. It was your... Friend, the Super Mutant that brought you out of there, but you were unconscious, you and Sarah."

"I... I remember activating the purifier and I felt like… Like I was gradually dying."

"I don't know what happened to you, and Rothchild's been trying to figure out what happened to you for the last two weeks."

"Wait... What? How long have I been… Like this?"

"You were in a coma for about two weeks," Lyons answered.

"What about Sarah? Is she okay?"

Lyons looked sorry. He stepped aside and looked to the back of the room. Lying on a bed, Sarah had her eyes closed and her face inexpressive. Electrodes were placed at her temples and parts of her body to monitor her brain and heart activity, and a tube, connected to a pump, went into her mouth.

"She has been unconscious for two weeks as well," Lyons said sadly. "Just like you, the surge of energy from the purifier made her unconscious, but I'm hopeful she'll wake up now that you've recovered."

"How is she doing?"

Damian stared at the young woman and remembered how she tried to stop him in the control room by banging at the door and desperately trying to smash the glass.

"Her vitals are stable," sighed Lyons. "It's probably thanks to this Super Mutant that saved you both. I find it hard to believe and admit it, but without that creature, you and my daughter would probably be dead."

Damian made a mental note to thank Fawkes the next time he saw him.

"What about the purifier? Did it work?" Damian asked nervously.

The fighting had been intense, and Damian remembered clearly the Jefferson Memorial shaking every time there was an explosion outside. He looked nervously at Lyons who smiled.

"Oh, yes. It works perfectly and the water in Tidal Basin is perfectly pure. Your father can be proud of you. Without you and his efforts, Project Purity would never have become a reality. I doubt we will ever be able to thank you properly for everything you did."

Damian couldn't help but smile and sigh. He thought of his parents. He had been ready to join them and wished that they could see that he had been able to fulfill their dream of providing pure water to the Capital Wasteland.

"So, does that mean it's over? Have we won?"

Lyons put on his serious face again. Damian dreaded what he was going to say to him.

"Despite the destruction of its main base, its retreat from the purifier, and the many losses it has suffered, the Enclave remains a serious threat. The Brotherhood's objective is simple. Destroy what remains of the Enclave."

"And? How is it going?"

Lyons ran his hand in his beard, searching for his words.

"Nearly every stronghold of the Enclave we've located in the Wasteland was quickly destroyed, thanks to the help of Liberty Prime, which proved far more effective than our estimations."

"But...?" said Damian who felt that there was something more.

"But something's not right. I have a feeling the Enclave still has an ace up its sleeve."

"What about Vault 87? Were you able to do anything about that?"

"Not yet," Lyons answered bitterly, shaking his head. "All of our troops are currently engaged against the Enclave. That you were able to venture there and come out alive is a miracle, and it will take many men to exterminate the abominations there."

Damian nodded slowly. He got up painfully. His clothes were folded on a table next to his armor. Reilly had had to come back with new armor and had left a small note. Damian grabbed it and read the few words written on it.

_"Get well soon, Ranger."_

Damian folded the note and put it in his bag.

"There's something I'd like to discuss with you. Or rather, two things."

Damian turned to Lyons. The tone he had used was much more formal.

"I'm ready to help you again. The Enclave must be destroyed."

"I'm glad to hear you say that. I just wanted to talk to you about your past and future contributions to the Brotherhood. In regards of your heroic deeds, I have decided to make you a full member of the Brotherhood of Steel and award you the rank of Knight."

Lyons rummaged through his tunic and pulled out a pair of the Brotherhood's standard identification tags. Damian remained silent. He took the ID-tags in his hands and read the information on them.

_"'Franklin Damian. 19120993. Knight. Type 0 +.'"_

Damian made the plates clatter between his fingers.

"It's a great honor Elder Lyons, but..."

"I figured you'd prefer to keep some independence. Sarah had told me of your wish to return to your Vault when this whole thing was over. That's why we'll be able to add the honorary membership to your nameplates."

"Thank you. Thank you very much," said Damian.

He put the little chain around his neck and finished getting dressed.

"The second point I would like to discuss with you is about this."

Lyons took out a small glass vial set with metal. Inside, a green-yellow liquid. Damian recognized the vial of FEV that Eden had wanted him to inject in the purifier. Instinctively, he put his hand on the satchel of his belt where the vial should be.

"We found this object in your belongings and proceeded to several tests to know its nature."

Damian knew it was pointless to lie.

"This is a vial containing a modified strain of a virus called FEV, the virus that causes Super Mutants. The Enclave modified it and Eden had asked me to inject it into the purifier. He said that this virus would gradually destroy the mutant cells of the different organisms living on the surface and would allow humanity to regain its place on Earth. He had just forgotten, or did not want to mention, that this virus would affect humans born in the Wasteland, just like Super Mutants, ghouls or any other mutated animal."

Lyons put the vial on one of the tables and looked at it for a few moments.

"Why did you take it if it's so dangerous?" he asked.

Damian shrugged.

"I don't know how, but the storage device for the vial was connected to the locks on the bunker door. Without the vial, it was impossible for me to leave the room. If I kept it with me, it was because I intended to destroy it. I didn't want to give it to you because I was afraid you'd try to modify the virus again and use it as a biological weapon against Super Mutants and ghouls."

An awkward silence felt in the infirmary. Lyons was staring Damian and seemed to be analyzing what he had just said. He sighed and put the vial back in his tunic.

"I'm pleased that you refused to use this virus and I'm both offended but sympathetic to your reluctance to give us the vial. The Brotherhood has encountered the FEV in the past, long ago and in faraway places. While this vial may contain a priceless opportunity to get rid of Super Mutants and ghouls, the danger posed by the contents of this vial is too great for the Brotherhood to make use of. I will personally make sure that this vial is destroyed."

"Thank you."

Damian finished dressing in silence. He adjusted the strap of his assault rifle and stroked the butt of his pistol before putting it away in his holster.

"I guess you're going to have a lot of missions for me," Damian said.

"Yes," Lyons said. "Given your efficiency, I decided, against protocol, to let you act alone, mainly because I don't have anyone available to accompany you."

He signaled Damian to follow him. They left the infirmary after Lyons gave his daughter one last look. The soldiers they walked by in the Citadel's corridors stood at attention as they approached and greeted Damian warmly.

"You'd better have a word with Rothchild. He'll probably be delighted to see you again in good shape. He'll give you the details of the operation and what we're working on now."

Damian nodded in silent. His mind was focused on the reasons why he did not die in the control room of Project Purity. He did not feel as if the radiations had done anything to him. No arm growing out of his stomach, no tree growing on his head, no rotting skin or flesh. Everything was normal, except the pain he could feel at his right hip where Autumn had shot him. When he questioned Lyons about that, the old Elder said that the bullet had gone in and out. No organs were hit, and the brief surgery Damian had been through during his coma, would only leave him a faint pain for a couple of days.

Lyons walked to the laboratory with Damian. They joined Rothchild, who was examining the large interactive map on the wall. Seeing them, a big smile lit up the scribe's face.

"It's good to see you awake," he said, shaking Damian's hand. "I see you're planning to immediately throw him the wolves," he added to Lyons' attention.

"Reginald, if you could explain the situation to our friend, there are some important matters concerning the water deliveries and the purifier that I have to settle."

"Is there a problem with the purifier?" Damian asked worriedly.

"No, nothing serious," Lyons answered immediately. "Only a disagreement with the scribe in charge of the place."

He took his leave and went back to his office, leaving Damian with Rothchild.

"Owyn has a lot on his mind right now," sighed Rothchild.

"I guess the fact that Sarah's still in a coma must not help," Damian said as he thought to the Sentinel lying on her bed and hooked up to a battery of machines and computers.

"Yes, it does. As far as I can recall, I've never seen him so affected by Brotherhood operations."

"So," said Damian. "I understood the war isn't over yet."

Rothchild had a sad smile on his face.

"You'll learn soon enough that the one thing in this world that never dies is war, despite the best efforts of Mankind."

Damian smiled bitterly. Rothchild pressed a button near the map and several dots lit up.

"In the last two weeks, we have discovered several sites of the Enclave scattered throughout the Wasteland. Most of them were outposts or supply bases for their Vertibird and patrols."

Damian listened carefully. He was impressed with the number of sites controlled by the Enclave and wondered how many more could be scattered throughout the Wastelands.

"With the destruction of their main command base and the loss of the purifier two weeks ago, we thought the remaining troops would eventually surrender or be routed, but against all odds, that was not the case."

"Let me guess. They still have an active chain of command and are able to communicate?"

"Exactly," nodded Rothchild. "By isolating the radio transmissions we've been able to pick up and analyzing them, we've been able to locate its origin, here."

He pointed to a point on the map, southwest of the Capital Wasteland.

"According to our recon teams, it is a former military site. Your mission will be quite simple. With Prime's support, you and the Pride should seize the site, eliminate all resistance and cut off the source of radio transmissions. If you get your hands on any useful data or information, bring it back to us."

Damian was looking at the point on the map. It would take him a long walk to get there and he doubted the Brotherhood would let him use the Vertibird to get there.

"Do you have any questions?" asked Rothchild.

"Just one. How do I get to this base?"

\- The Vertibird you captured with the Super Mutant is still being examined by our scribes and needs some repairs. So, I'm sorry to say you're going to have to walk. If you follow the road, you'll find an old car tunnel in the mountains. The Pride is using it as a bridgehead to monitor the site and prepare for their attack. Once there, you'll have to find Paladin Tristan. He's in charge of the Pride until Sarah recovers."

"Tristan? But I thought it was Vargas the..."

Damian left the end of his sentence open, realizing that Vargas was probably no longer with them.

"Scribe Rothchild?"

Rothchild turned around and saw a young scribe approaching him, carrying several documents.

"Excuse me. I'll see you when you get back."

The two scribes walked away. Damian looked at the map for a few more moments. He left the laboratory.

The sun was high in the sky. The courtyard of the Citadel was filled with activity. Recruits lined up in rows, while a Paladin in full power armor spoke to them in a martial way. The Vertibird captured to the Enclave was in the center of the courtyard, and several scribes and soldiers were examining the engines and the inside.

Damian headed for the main gate, when he heard the soldier in power armor not far from him, address his recruits.

"Listen up, maggots. This is a standard AER9 laser rifle. It's an energy weapons, for the two sleepy girls in the back."

Damian looked at the instructor and smiled a little, seeing the faces of some of the recruits, who were desperately trying to understand the complex functionality of the rifle.

"Now pay attention, our guest here will make a demonstration."

Damian realized suddenly that the _'guest'_ was none other than Fawkes. The Super Mutant had somehow managed to repair part of his torn vault 87 suit. He approached the instructor who gave him the laser rifle and took a few steps back.

Fawkes stood in front of the target, a makeshift mannequin looking like a Super Mutant. Fawkes aimed, fired a few shots and unloaded the weapons before handing it back to the instructor.

"See, that's how you do it," said the instructor. "Now step forward and grab a BB gun on the table and fire a few rounds on the targets."

"But, Paladin," said one of the recruits. "Why are we using BB guns instead of real weapons? I mean, we are Brotherhood, right? We'll get laser rifle once we go on patrol."

The instructor stared at the recruit in silent.

"Laser weapons are more expensive and valuable than you. For now, you are just a bunch of maggots thinking they already are the Brotherhood elite. Now stop jerking around and go to the firing range. On the double."

The recruits approached the table with BB guns in a disorganized manner, and Damian could hear the instructor sigh. He saw Damian and motioned him to come closer.

"Well, looks like Lady Death was not yet ready to claim you," he smiled at Damian. "I'm Paladin Gunny, and I'm in charge of… Hey! You fuckin' donkey! Aim the gun at the target you idiot!"

Gunny approached the group of Brotherhood initiates and started yelling at them. Fawkes approached Damian and gave him the best imitation of a smile he could do.

"I was desperate to see you again, my friend."

"It's good to see you too," Damian smiled.

The Super Mutant bowed forward.

"I guess I owe you a thank you for getting Sarah and myself out of the purifier."

"I've only paid a small fraction of my debt," the Super Mutant replied.

"My life for your freedom, I believe your debt is all paid," Damian said as he readjusted his rifle on his shoulder.

"So, allow me to accompany you as your companion this time."

"With pleasure," Damian smiled.

The Paladin Gunny came back toward them, grumbling under his breath about his recruits.

"Sorry, where were we? Oh, yeah, I'm Paladin Gunny and I'm in charge of turning these maggots in Brothers and Sisters of Steel. And as you can see, it's not an easy job. Anyway, I heard that you were promoted to the Pride. That mean that if you want to get power armor training, I'll be the one you'd want to talk to."

"Thanks, Paladin, but I'll stick to my combat armor for now," Damian politely declined.

"As you wish. By the way, could I borrow you Fawkes from time to time? He seems to have way better effects on my recruit than me, and I'd like to explain them the weaknesses and anatomy of a Super Mutant."

Damian turned to Fawkes who bowed down as a sign of agreement.

"Great, now if you'd excuse me, I have to get back to my student, before they all shoot each other."

Damian watched the instructor return to the firing range and he heard him yell at some of the recruits.

They left the Citadel. Damian had initially planned to go to Megaton to resupply but, now that he was with Fawkes, he decided to head directly to the car tunnel.

The Potomac and the area around the Citadel and the bridge still bore the scars of the Battle of the purifier. Craters and traces of explosions on the road and on the buildings and wrecks of several Vertibirds protruding above the water's surface were evidence of the violence of the fighting.

Damian turned his head towards the purifier. The building was still there, and he could see small silhouettes coming in and out around it. He wanted to go there and see with his own eyes the legacy of his parents, but he decided that destroying the Enclave was more important.

During the past two weeks, Fawkes had remained at the entrance to the Citadel. The Brotherhood was still suspicious over the Super Mutant, but his help during the Battle of the Purifier had helped to ensure that the Super Mutant was tolerated on the outskirts of the Citadel and not shot on sight. Still, Damian was worried about the reaction of the Megaton or Rivet City inhabitants or the Brotherhood patrols in the ruins.

As they walked along the road, they came across a caravan of Brotherhood soldiers and Rivet City security guards. Attached to the back of a brahmin were two olive-yellow water barrels bearing the Brotherhood's logo. When the Brotherhood soldiers saw them, they greeted Damian and took a brief look at Fawkes, and the Rivet City Guards stood at a distance, holding their weapons close at hand.

The water supply seemed to be working well, and Damian thought back to what Lyons had said about his difference of opinion with the scribe in charge of the purifier. He took mental note of going to the purifier and clarifying the story once he came back from the car tunnel.

"I have to admit that thanks to your reputation and the trust some people have in you, I was not attacked. I find that remarkable."

"Who exactly are you thinking of?" Damian asked.

"Your friends... The Rangers. I understand they were fighting my meta-human brothers and I imagine their surprise to see you in my company."

"Hell of a surprise, indeed," said Damian, thinking back to the disaster that had almost been the first meeting between Fawkes and the others at the Citadel.

They arrived a few hours later in front of an old car tunnel that had half collapsed. Sitting on the side of the mountain, Damian noticed several Brotherhood soldiers guarding the place and watching the Wasteland. When they saw him arrive, they waved at several other soldiers near the entrance of the tunnel.

A soldier in power armor came out of one of the tunnel's emergency exits and greeted Damian.

"It's good to see you, Knight, You and your... Companion."

He looked down at Fawkes, probably trying to probe the mind of the Super Mutant.

"Follow me," said the soldier. "Paladin Tristan is waiting for you."

The soldier led them into one of the maintenance corridors of the car tunnel. The tunnel had completely collapsed and only a small portion was still standing. The place had to be controlled by the Enclave before the Brotherhood could establish itself. The Brotherhood had reinstalled the metal barricades to for a security perimeter inside the tunnel. Laser turrets and several soldiers stood guard while a few scribes made an inventory of the weapons, armor, ammunition and items captured to the Enclave.

Bent over a map on a table, a Brotherhood man in power armor was chatting with other soldiers. When he heard Damian arrive, he stood up and gave him a warm smile.

"Well, well, well... Look who's back among the living."

"Paladin Tristan," Damian replied to greet him.

Tristan was a man in his fifties, a bald skull with grey hair on the temples. He put his steely blue eyes on Fawkes, and Damian was surprised to see him nod to greet to Super Mutant.

Damian had had very few contacts with Tristan, before this day. He was a Pride member and was mostly taking part in special operations for the Brotherhood. The coma of Sarah and the death of Vargas had put him, one of the oldest members of the Brotherhood and in command of the Lyons' Pride.

"Some people were beginning to think that you and Sarah weren't going to make it. How is she?" he asked in a preoccupied tone.

"Her condition is stable from what I've been told. It shouldn't be too long before she wakes up," Damian said.

"Let's hope so. It would be a shame if she missed the party."

"Lyons and Rothchild told me you needed help," said Damian to focus the conversation on a more important matter.

"Yes, they told me you'd be joining the show. Won't say no to some extra hands."

He invited Damian to look at the map.

"The tunnel will take us out here," explained Tristan "We'll have to advance out in the open for several meters before we reach the objective, an old satellite relay station. Ops is pretty simple, we let the robot do the hard stuff and keep our heads down. It can take much more than us."

Tristan grabbed a plasma rifle standing next to the table and signaled his men to get moving.

"If you have any questions, you can ask me on the way."

Damian and Fawkes followed the two dozen of Brotherhood soldiers. They walked through the tunnel, lit by work lamps connected to generators.

"Any idea what happened to the purifier?" Damian asked.

"Not a single clue," Tristan replied, shrugging. "Just after you, Sarah, Fawkes and the other went in, several Vertibirds landed behind the Memorial. We had just repelled them when we felt a tremor. When we entered the purifier, we came across the Super Mutant carrying you and Sarah. We thought you were dead, but when we realized you were still breathing, we carried you back to the Citadel."

"And during the past two weeks? Rothchild said you found several sites occupied by the Enclave."

"Yes. Nothing very impressive. Just a few small encampments or old pre-war tunnels. Whenever we found one, we'd go with the tin can and flush the bastard out with flamethrowers or burry them inside. I must say, thanks to the destruction of their base, they look more like a raiding party than a proper army. Some have tried to run, surrender or hold on, but..."

A small grin appeared on his lips and he pointed to one of the corners of the tunnel with a gesture of the head. Looking in the direction indicated by Tristan, Damian saw several corpses. Men and women in black military uniforms, and a few officers. All of them had been stripped of their boots and amor and had a hole at the base of the skull or at the back of the head from which a small trickle of blood slowly flowed out. Damian also noticed that they all had their hands tied behind their backs.

"... The result was the same," Tristan smiled.

Damian looked at the corpses for a few more seconds before he caught up the Paladin.

"We've been watching the site since a couple of days," Tristan continued. "If you ask me, it's their last main stronghold, so we might encounter fierce resistance, but with Prime on our side it shouldn't be too difficult."

They arrived at one of the emergencies exits of the tunnel. Tristan waved at his men. They went through the gate and over a set of rocky hills. A road went down to the right and led to a set of concrete buildings with satellite dishes on top. The surrounding area was sparsely populated with dead trees and power pylons.

The Enclave had blocked the road with a series of force fields and installed a series of defenses encircling a small side road between two rock formations.

Crouching under cover, the Brotherhood troops waited in silence. Damian looked at the satellite relay station. They will have to run across an open field before reaching the main building and the first line of defenses. Damian hopped that the Enclave had not put any mines and if it was the case, that Prime would detonate them on his way.

"Okay guys, Prime will be here in two minutes," said Tristan, giving back a large military radio to one of his men.

Damian took a deep breath. Images of the Anchorage simulation and the Battle of the purifier went through his mind. He looked at the Brotherhood soldiers. Most of them had no power armor, and wore combat armor, like his, painted grey, emblazoned with the Brotherhood insignia.

Heavy footsteps started to resound. Damian noticed that the Enclave soldiers near the open field were looking at their direction and running to cover or from foxholes to foxholes, bringing ammunitions and grenades.

Well sheltered behind the rocks, Damian and the others were able to admire the arrival of Liberty Prime and some other soldiers of the Brotherhood. The robot fired its laser, destroying the site's defenses.

A formation of Vertibird appeared in the sky. Launching one of his anti-communist replicas, Prime used his laser on the group. The one he hit, crashed into a second Vertibird and ended up in the forcefields. The rest of the aircrafts hurried past, strafing the ground with their guns.

Damian, Tristan, and the others followed Prime, having only to admire the carnage that the great robot left in its wake and eliminating the few Enclave soldiers stuck in their foxholes.

Prime stopped his advance. It stood in front of one of the buildings on the site. Its eye-slit lit up and a blue ray gushed out, spreading over the whole concrete facade of the base.

The shooting had become sporadic, allowing Damian and the other to move a little closer to the robot.

"All right guys, as soon as the tin can finds an entrance, we take over the place, we burn the bastards, and let the scribes get the useful tech.

Damian saw two flamethrowers soldiers come next to them and he looked up at Liberty Prime.

_"Scan complete. Structural weakness detected."_

Prime turned off its laser and grabbed one of the warheads in store behind its back. Damian closed his eyes, turned his head away and plugged his ears. He felt the tremor of the explosion in his legs and rib cage. He opened his eyes and saw the robot arm its fist and hit the wall, which was already badly damaged by the warhead. Prime hit the wall several times.

Damian looked up. The satellite antenna on top of the building was starting to move. At first Damian thought the dish was shaking under Prime's assaults, until he noticed that the other two antennas on different buildings were also moving into position.

Prime gave a last blow to the façade and the concrete shattered. The antennas came to a standstill, all pointing to the sky.

_"Satellite Uplink detected. Analysis of Communist transmission pending."_

"What's going on?" Tristan said worriedly.

Prime stood still. He turned to Damian and the others and waved his hand, indicating to move away from the building.

_"Warning! Warning! Red Chinese Orbital Strike Imminent! All personnel move to a safe distance immediately!"_

The sky above them lit up with an intense blue. A small detonation was heard, then a second and a third.

"What the hell is that?" asked one of the Brotherhood soldiers.

"Run! Take cover!" Tristan shouted.

The soldiers started running towards the car tunnel. Above their heads, missiles were falling from the skies. One of the missiles hit the ground. The shockwave was terrible, much more powerful than the miniature warheads on Liberty Prime. A second tremor shook the ground. The shockwave threw Damian into the air and he fell heavily to the ground.

_(Inside the satellite relay station, a few minutes earlier)_

A detonation sounded outside, and dust fell from the cables and pipes on the ceiling. The Enclave officer looked up, dusting his uniform. He groaned and looked around him. The room he was in was filled with computers, monitored by Enclave personnel. Soldiers in power armor were running out of the room, plasma rifles in hand, and headed downstairs, through a large metal staircase.

"Major! We just lost contact with Yankee 5! Enemy troops are closing in!"

The officer looked at the young woman next to him. She was sitting in front of a large military radio and had a nervous and anxious look on her face.

"_Goliath, this is Wolverine 3-1, what's our air support doing? Over!"_ asked a voice through the officer's headset.

"Wolverine 3-1, Goliath, stand-by," replied the Major.

He turned toward the young radio operator and pointed her device with his index finger.

"Get me that Vertibird squadron to strafe the field in front of the building! Now!"

Another tremor shook the building, making a few computer screens fall to the ground.

"Major, Vulture 2 is denying air support on our position! He says that if they get close to the robot, they'll be blasted away!" said the young Enclave woman.

The officer swore and grabbed the microphone from the hands of the woman.

"Vulture 2, Goliath, get your squadron to strafe that giant robot, now!"

"_Goliath, Vulture 2, negative, negative! I'll die if I get close to that thing! Over!"_

"I'll kill you myself if you don't bomb that fucking robot!" yelled the officer.

Statics came from the radio, and the officer threw the microphone away in anger. He looked around him and then walked to a man sitting in front of a computer. On the screen a map of the Capital Wasteland.

"Fire mission, four salvos, map grid 011029."

The operator typed the numbers on his keyboard and the map switched to a closer location.

"Sir, that's directly on top of us…"

"I know! Do it!"

"No, I don't want! We'll fucking die!"

"That's an order!"

The operator declined again, and shouted, seeking help from the other soldiers around him. The Enclave officer, grabbed his plasma pistol, raised it at the operator's head and fired. The plasma ball liquified the operator's face, who fell to the ground, in a last groan.

The Major briefly looked around him and typed a command on the computer. Second after, they heard an alarm.

All Enclave personnel in the room jumped from their seats and crouched under desks, sheltering their heads with their arms.

The young radio operator was crying. She was lying under her desk, her eyes closed, covering her ears, praying.

A few seconds later, tremendous explosion shook the room and the relay station.

_(Outside the satellite relay station, after the explosion)_

Damian opened his eyes painfully. A huge cloud of dust enveloped him, and he could not see more than two meters away. His ears were ringing. He struggled to get up, coughing and spitting. Through the whistling in his ears, he could hear the coughing fits of the other soldiers and a metallic scraping on the ground. Damian felt like his whole body had been trampled by an army of Super Mutant riding brahmins, twice. It felt like time had slowed down. All movement he was seeing were slowed.

This strange feeling stopped when Damian felt a hand on his shoulder. A Brotherhood soldier was next to him and asking him if he was wounded.

The cloud of dust disappeared. Huge craters littered the ground at the foot of the building. Liberty Prime crept slowly towards the ground. Both of its legs had been severed from its body and it was using its only remaining arm to crawl. The joint between its neck and head snapped. The robot's head rolled several meters and came to rest near the Damian and Brotherhood soldiers.

"What the hell was that?"

Tristan emerged from a pile of dust. Several Brotherhood soldiers were wounded and were lying on the ground or were slowly getting up checking their armor and their companions still on the ground. Fawkes appeared from beneath a mound of dirt, a gash on his forehead.

"Inside! Follow me!"

Tristan grabbed his plasma rifle and rounded up his men before entering the opening created by Prime. The breach led to a corridor where pipes and electrical cables piled up. Shredded body parts laid on the ground. Damian followed the soldiers, Fawkes on his heels. He stepped over the severed bust of an Enclave soldier, still alive and waving his arms to cling to the Brotherhood members, squeaking and gurgling for help.

Damian penetrated deeper into the base. The corridor led to a series of tunnels, housing various storage rooms and sanitary facilities. Pieces of concrete and steel had fallen from the ceiling in some sections of the tunnels, crushing several soldiers of the Enclave. They, too, were still a little stunned by the mysterious attack that had just taken place.

The members of the Brotherhood quickly progressed to a control room and split up to go to the other sections of the complex. A large stairwell provided access to the various floors and to the top of the structure.

Damian and the others climbed the floors, eliminating the soldiers of the Enclave who were in their way, making no distinction between those who wanted to surrender or those who tried to stop them, the latter throwing grenades from the upper floors.

"Clear!"

One of the soldiers relayed the information by shouting it to his comrades on the lower floors. Damian wiped his sweaty and bloody face. Tristan sighed and began to search the corpses around him.

"Paladin Tristan, I found something."

"What is it, Edwards?"

Damian followed Tristan into a room occupied solely by computers. The room was littered with dead Enclave soldiers and officers, who some of them had seem to commit suicide. He found the Paladin and a man named Edwards in front of a large computer console. On one of the screens, mathematical data and coordinates were displayed continuously.

"What do you think it is?" Edwards asked.

"We'd better get this data back to Rothchild," the Paladin replied. "He'll figure it out."

Tristan gave Edwards a small empty holotape and he downloaded the data onto it. He turned to Damian and Fawkes.

"You should head back to the Citadel. Give this holotape to Rothchild. If you don't mind, I'd like the Super Mutant to stay here and help us clean up this mess. We're going to stay here for a while and pick up whatever tech and intel we can find."

Fawkes bowed forward in agreement. Damian placed the holotape in his satchel and headed for the exit. On the now-silent battlefield, a few Brotherhood soldiers were looking after their wounded and dead comrades and began searching the few bodies of the Enclave soldiers that were still intact.

He went back through the car tunnel in the opposite direction and set off for the Citadel.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**There we are starting the Broken Steel DLC and continuing Damian's adventures in D.C.**

**Until next time.**


	44. Chapter 44: The best job in the world

**Hello enveryone, hope you are doing well and that you enjoy this "second part" of the story as much as the first one.**

**Here we focus on Projet Purity, plus, I added something that I thought was missing from the game and could fit very well.**

* * *

Damian was approaching the outskirts of D.C. He had stopped under an old bus shelter to get some rest. He kept going over what he had witness at the relay station. The Enclave had found a way to destroy Liberty Prime. Now, the Brotherhood's chances of victory were dwindling, and with the discovery of this devastating new weapon, their chances were almost nil. Chances were good that they would try to use it again and target the Citadel.

Damian arrived at the Citadel and was pleased to see that the building was still standing and had not been hit by this mysterious weapon. He found Rothchild in the laboratory. Rothchild's nose was stuck against a computer screen and he was mumbling to himself.

"Scribe Rothchild? I've..."

"Can you believe it?" cried the scribe without taking his face off the screen. "All these years of work! All this time for what? A single botched operation! A real fiasco!"

"You already know about Prime?"

"Of course, I know about Prime. We were tracking him from this terminal when we got an error message and lost the connection!"

"You know, it could be worse," Damian said.

"How could it be worse? Our best way to destroy the Enclave once and for all is in pieces!"

"They could have attacked the Citadel. Without you and Lyons, we might as well give up right now."

Rothchild looked at Damian. He was about to answer, but then he realized the young man was right. He sighed and massaged his temples before he turned off the terminal.

"Yes, you're right. I think we should consider ourselves fortunate that the Enclave didn't use... That thing earlier. Prime can always be rebuilt, in fact I'll have Tristan bring what he can and leave a few men to watch over its remains."

He got up and resumed his usual serious air before turning to Damian.

"So, were you able to get your hands on any interesting data?"

"Yes," Damian said.

He opened the little satchel on his belt where the holotape was and gave it to Rothchild.

"Tristan and his men found some data on a computer. I don't know what it could match. Still, it must have something to do with what happened to us at the relay station."

Rothchild inserted the holotape into one of the lab terminals. The data Damian had seen at the station appeared on the screen. The scribe scratched his chin and mumbled.

"Hmm, it might take us a while to decipher all this," he said. "And as long as we don't know what this data refers to, and without Prime, it will be difficult for us to make a plan of action."

"What are you thinking about? What do we do?" Damian asked.

"I'd advise you to go look in the mirror, don't be offended, but you are a mess."

Damian saw his reflection on the screen of one of the computers in the lab. His hair needed cutting and were all sticky from blood and his face was covered by a thick beard filled with dirt and dried blood.

He left the lab. On the way, he stopped at the infirmary to check on Sarah. Her condition was still the same as when he had left for the relay station.

Fawkes and Tristan still had not returned and there was a good chance they would stay at the relay station for a while longer.

"Well, you're back."

Damian turned around and saw Elder Lyons walking towards him. He had only left him a few hours ago but he felt as if the Elder had aged several years in that short time.

"I have been informed of the results of the operation and I am beginning to wonder if it was a good idea to send you there with Prime."

"No one could foresee what was going to happen," Damian replied.

Lyons nodded slowly.

"Yes, but we have to admit that the situation is not to our advantage and that failure would be... Catastrophic."

"Nothing is decided in advance," said Damian, trying to reassure him.

"I hope with all my heart that you are right."

His eyes were blank. Lyons' mind had to be focused on his daughter's condition and Damian could not blame him. Between the Enclave on the one hand, the Super Mutant on the other, and the Outcasts, who from what Damian had heard, had gotten it into their heads to harass the Brotherhood patrols, Lyons must not have had a minute to himself, and adding the condition his daughter was in, it was amazing he hadn't snapped already.

"Paladin Tristan requested your assignment to his special squad and given your importance, I naturally accepted. He will contact you to inform you of the situation and your next assignment. In the meantime, you should get some rest. Just pick up one of our long-range radios at the armory if you decide to go your own way. Now, if you'll excuse me... I have some mission reports waiting for me."

Lyons dragged himself to his office under Damian's gaze.

The armory at the Citadel was a small room. Locked behind a gate and a counter, a young Brotherhood initiate was reading a half-burned magazine and watched over the large stock of ammunition and weapons stored behind her.

Hearing Damian enter, she quickly closed her magazine and rose from her stool to stand at attention.

Damian was struggling to get used to his new status within the Brotherhood and always found it strange that people would stand at attention when they saw him, as he did not need to do so when he was in the presence of Lyons or the other Paladins.

"I've come to get a long-range radio."

The young initiate grabbed a notepad and scrolled through several pages before sliding it to Damian through the grid. The sheet she had presented to him had a chart with the names and ranks of the Brotherhood members, the type of equipment borrowed, and two dates, each corresponding to the time the weapon went out and returned to the armory.

The young initiate slipped a pen to Damian and began to stare at him with stars in her eyes.

"You are lucky to be able to go on a mission away from the Citadel," said the young woman without taking her eyes off Damian.

Damian mumbled an answer. The intense gaze of the young initiate made him uncomfortable. He did not know whether she was looking at him like that because she finally had someone to talk to or because she was looking at the _"legendary Lonely Wanderer"._

He scribbled something on the paper and gave it back to the young woman with the pen. She finally looked down and looked at Damian's signature. She signed in turn and put the notepad away in a drawer before she walked away and disappeared into the maze of shelves behind her.

Damian heard her searching for a few seconds, giving him time to admire the collection of energy weapons the Brotherhood had in stock. The young woman reappeared carrying a large khaki-colored walkie-talkie with her. Damian immediately recognized the radio model used in the Anchorage simulation. The young woman unlocked the gate and gave the radio to Damian.

"You know how to use it?" asked the initiate.

Guessing that the young woman just wanted to talk to someone for more than 30 seconds, Damian asked her to explain to him how the radio worked.

"Good luck out there," the young woman smiled broadly after her explanation.

Damian nodded awkwardly and left the armory with the radio strap around his shoulder.

Damian crossed the Tidal Basin and arrived at the foot of the Jefferson Memorial. It was the first time he had seen it so closely since the Battle of Project Purity and he realized how much the place had suffered.

There were large craters around the building. On the road leading from the ruins in D.C. to the Memorial, Damian had come small groups of scavengers, still looking, even after two weeks, for empty cartridges, pieces of power armor or trying to access Vertibirds wrecks in the buildings or the river.

On the dyke separating the Potomac from the Basin was a wreck of a Vertibird but this one was jealously guarded by the Brotherhood and prevented the scavengers from approaching it.

The fortifications installed by the Enclave were still there, occupied by the Brotherhood who watched over the river and the bank of the Potomac or watched the small junk-boat of the merchants on their way to Rivet City from Alexandria Arms or from the South.

Damian almost stumbled and when he looked at the ground, he saw that it was also turned over by large footprints left by Liberty Prime as it passed.

Amidst all these remnants of the battle, the Brotherhood and Rivet City security had set up loading and unloading bays for caravans. The Brahmins were loaded with large yellow metal barrels with the Brotherhood emblem painted on them.

The water distribution seemed to run smoothly judging by the number of caravans coming in and out of the Basin, so Damian wondered what the differences of opinion mentioned by Lyons earlier might be.

He was intrigued by this story and wanted to make sure that his parents' legacy was in the hands of the right and competent people.

Damian walked past a small group of soldiers sitting next to several mortars in a pit and entered the Jefferson Memorial.

Lighting had been turned on with field lamps and generators. Part of the hallway leading to the shop had been converted into a reception area. A Brotherhood scribe sat there with his nose in a file. He heard Damian come in and, recognizing him, waved his hand and invited him in.

The shop was bustling with activity. Several Brotherhood scribes were busy with men and women in white lab coats, commenting on diagrams drawn on blackboards or trying to clean spare parts for the purifier pipes.

Damian walked to the rotunda. The control room was immaculate and several people in lab coats were watching the purifier's computer instruments. All trace of the shooting between him and Autumn had disappeared.

Damian went up to the control room. Through the transparent pipes, he could see the water flowing quickly to the statue of Thomas Jefferson. The water swirling inside the tank was so clear that it was possible to admire the statue, something previously impossible.

Damian looked down at the floor, just in front of the main console of the purifier. Two weeks earlier, he had been lying on this cold, metallic floor, right where his father had died, and he was about to join him and his mother.

"Excuse me, but this is a restricted area."

Out of his thoughts, Damian turned around, ready to apologize, when he saw Alex Dargon, one of Doctor Li and his father's team members.

"Oh, it's you!" said the scientist with a smile. "Sorry, I didn't recognize you."

He frantically shook Damian's hand.

"We heard that you were in a deep coma right after the purifier turned on. Glad to see you're feeling better."

"Thank you, good to see you too. Speaking of which, any idea what might have happened?" Damian asked.

"Not the slightest, no," answered Alex, shaking his head. "We're still trying to find out what happened, but now everything is working perfectly."

Damian looked again at the water surrounding the statue and the rest of the control room.

"Impressive, huh?" Alex commented.

Damian nodded back.

"Your father would be proud, I think. I… I don't think I had time to before, so… My condolences for your loss."

"Thanks."

Damian looked around him and faced Alex again.

"Where the Doctor Li?" he asked. "I haven't seen nor talk to her, since the battle."

Alex looked sad.

"Madison's gone. Between losing your father, fighting the Enclave and now the Brotherhood taking over, she couldn't handle it."

Damian nodded in silent. She probably did not accept the fact that Project Purity's lead went to the Brotherhood, as she was probably already seeing herself leading everything while everyone obeyed without saying anything.

"Too bad," lied Damian, who somewhere was rejoicing that the arrogant scientist was no longer there.

"It's been hard on her, you know," Alex continued. "But yes, it's a shame, we could use her on the team."

Alex paused for a few seconds while he chatted with another scientist and read a report.

"Excuse me," he said, turning back to Damian.

"Don't mind. I heard that Lyons had a problem with one of the scribes from the purifier."

"Oh, you must be talking about Scribe Bigsley. He's the one who's running the whole place from A to Z now. If you want to see him, his office is in the old shop. Just follow the long waiting line."

Alex Dargon walked away to go check out a monitor in the control room. Damian returned to the shop, wondering what the scientist could have meant by _'the long waiting line'_.

He understood when he saw several Brotherhood scribes and scientists standing in front of an open door leading to a large, messy desk where piles of papers, empty Nuka-Cola bottles and dirty coffee cups were piled up.

Sitting in front of a computer with his head resting against his arm on the desk was a Brotherhood scribe in his wrinkled red dress. The man's hair was a mess and Damian could hear him snoring.

_"Wait, that's the guy who runs the purifier? Is this a joke?"_ Damian thought dumbfounded by what he saw.

The line of scribes and scientists were looking at each other, embarrassed and uncomfortable, each whispering to each other who would have the courage to wake him up to tell him about their various problems and suffer his bad mood.

Damian rolled his eyes, sighed and went past the line and entered the office. He knocked against the door but got no reaction from the scribe. Damian stepped forward and cleared his throat. The scribe continued to sleep.

Damian looked over his shoulder at the waiting line. No one seemed offended by the fact he had overtaken everyone. He faces the sleeping scribe and banged his fist on the desk. The scribe woke up with a start and looked around. His face was tired, and Damian noticed large dark circles under his bloodshed eyes. The man looked as if he hadn't slept in days and judging by the smell of caffeine in his office, he was trying everything he could not to fall asleep.

The scribe saw Damian and mumbled something unintelligible before yawning.

"You know, I was just thinking about you," he said, struggling to keep his eyes open. "I have to admit that you have courage. Putting your life on the line for the purifier. But I guess you have no idea how much it has made my life a living hell? The great Lone Wanderer must have other problems to deal with."

"Well, hello to you too," Damian answered.

The scribe grumbled something and ran his hand over his face.

"Excuse me, my name is Bigsley, and as you can see, I'm a bit on edge."

He slid his hand over the desk looking for a full cup of coffee or a bottle of Nuka-Cola.

"Yes, I can see that," Damian replied, looking at the line behind him and the mess in the room.

"Lyons doesn't understand that I'm completely at the end of my life here."

Bigsley was starting to ramble and seemed to have forgotten Damian's presence.

"No one can imagine what a logistical nightmare it is to organize and manage the purifier."

"Uh... You..."

"No," continued Bigsley, who seemed to have gone in an endless monologue. "No one cares how I'm going to fix the problems with the delivery of Aqua Pura to Megaton, or how I'm going to pay the caravans, or..."

Several bursts of voices echoed through the museum and Bigsley seemed to return to reality. A woman, with black hair cut short, dressed in Rivet City security armor and with a furious look on her face, burst into the scribe's office.

She walked by Damian without seeing him and put her hands violently on the desk, spilling several empty cups and piles of files, which crashed to the floor, under Bigsley's horrified eyes.

"Bigsley! That's the seventh time in three days! When do you plan to solve the problem?"

Bigsley, at the verge of a collapsing from his seat and sleep, stared at the young woman and was visibly trying to remember her name.

"Hey!" Damian called out to her.

"Take a number and wait your turn!" spat at the woman, still staring at the scribe.

"Officer… Lepelletier...," sighed Bigsley who seemed to realize his day was about to get even worse than it already was. "I've already..."

"My men are being gunned down one by one! The water caravans are being attacked and stripped, and it's not done by your everyday Raiders gangs or Super Mutants! What do you intend to do about it?"

Damian looked at poor Bigsley, who was probably thinking about shooting himself in the head rather than finding a solution for the angry woman.

"You say your caravans are being attacked?" Damian intervened.

"Yes!" cried the woman. "It's been three days since all of our caravans leaving Jefferson Memorial have been targeted! What are you going to do about the problem, Bigsley?"

"I can take care of it if you want."

The woman turned to Damian. She was going to answer him, but she just stared at him. She looked at Bigsley again and sighed and shook her head. She left the office under the terrified gaze of the scientists and scribes.

"I guess that's just the tip of the iceberg of problems you have to deal with?" Damian asked with a slight smirk.

Bigsley replied with a grunt.

"Look, I can handle these problems for you," Damian said, before the scribe fell asleep again.

"If you do, I'll pay you, all right," Bigsley grunted, massaging his head.

He motioned for Damian to close the door.

"Look," Bigsley said. "The people of Megaton keep sending Lyons letters of complaints and grievances, so much so that he now has more such letters than mission reports on his desk."

"What's the problem?" Damian asked.

"They want water. More water. Even more and more water. But as soon as I send them some, I get the same refrain. _'More water! No more Aqua Pura!"_. What do they make of all this water? Did they decide to turn their damn crater into a public swimming pool? If so, drown yourself in it and maybe I'll finally get some peace."

"I'll see what I can do."

Bigsley seemed relieved. The scribe threatened to fall asleep. Damian left the office and heard the scribe breathe a long sigh of desperation as he saw the waiting line move and enter his office.

On leaving the museum, Damian stopped on the scaffolding overlooking the pool. The rumbling of the pipes pouring, and pumping water covered all other noises. On the bank, Damian noticed several Brotherhood soldiers burning the corpses of Mirelurks. The purified water must have been poisonous to them. Eden was finally going to have some of the fauna of the Wasteland killed by a purifier, as he had wished.

Damian came down from the scaffolding and walked around the museum. Arriving behind, he looked to the right and left and raised his head to the dome. There was no one there, and this side of the museum had been rather spared from the recent fighting. Damian watched the Potomac and the few merchant boats that were either going East, up the river to get around the ruins of D.C. or going down South.

Damian searched the ground around him and recovered two small planks of wood. He reached into his pockets and his bag and grabbed a small piece of string and began to tie the two planks together to form a cross and pulled out his trench knife and carved one of the planks. He repeated the operation with another pair of planks.

He looked around again and found a small space at the foot of the museum. Damian dug a few centimeters into the ground with his knife and planted the two crosses, using the butt of his pistol as a hammer.

Damian put his weapons away and took a few steps back. He looked at the cross from the left and sighed for a long time before crouching down.

"There you go, Dad. It's not very luxurious or ideal, but times are hard, so I made do with what I could find."

A sad little smile appeared on his face as he read the name _"James"_ engraved on the cross.

"I don't know where you are right now, but... You must be with Mom, in a better place than here. Well, Mankind dropped so much crap and bombs during the Great War that I wouldn't be surprised if Heaven and Hell were as irradiated as the rest of the Wasteland.

He ran his hand over his face and through his hair.

"If only you could see this place," he said, looking up at the museum. "The dream of your life to you and Mom has finally come true. The water flows through the pipes, the G.E.C.K. purifies the water and the Brotherhood distributes it to every corners of the Capital Wasteland, for free, just as you wished. The process seems a bit slow, and I'm sure that... You'd be trying so hard to make it faster, but it's a good start."

Damian took a deep breath and tried to hold back his tears.

"There's... There's so much more I'd like to ask you or tell you. You've always been a role model for me and..."

He wiped the tears from his cheeks and sniffed loudly.

"I miss you, Dad," he managed to articulate. "I'm proud and grateful for everything you've done, whether it's Project Purity or... Or the fact that you chose to sacrifice everything to give me a better life."

Damian cried for several minutes, silently. He wiped his face and raised his head to the cross.

"I... I, too, want to help make the Wasteland a better place. To honor what you and Mom did, for... For all the people I've met since I came out of the Vault and helped me. And for Amata.

He was silent for a few seconds and looked up at the sky and the river behind him. He turned to the second cross, on which was engraved the name _"Catherine"_.

"Mom," said Damian. "We... We haven't been together for a long time, but... I hope that you too are in a better place with Dad. I wish I could have got to know you and... And grown up with you both, in the Vault, or wherever."

He sighed and wiped away the tears from his eyes again.

"I have a lot of work ahead of me," he said with a slight smile. "I... I hope you're proud of me and the choices I've made. Goodbye, Dad, Mom. I love you."

Damian arrived at Rivet City. The city was still overflowing with activity and small stands had been set up next to the boarding bridge and near the metro station. On the way, he had crossed some Brotherhood patrols, trying to stop some scavengers from selling Enclave technologies found on the battlefield.

Sheltered under the metal railing and under a tent, many caravanners were resting on deckchairs or old sofas with holes in them, next to their Brahmins and a pile of yellow barrels from the purifier.

Damian observed the different stands. If the woman he had seen earlier was from Rivet City and was in charge of the water caravans, then she must have been in one of the stands.

He found her sitting at a small desk under the boarding bridge. When the woman saw him, she frowned.

"I saw you with Bigsley, didn't I?" she asked.

"Yes, name's Damian Franklin."

"Officer Lepelletier," introduced the woman.

"I understand you've been having trouble with the water caravans."

"Since you attended my... My discussion with Bigsley, you know as much as any of us do. I'm understaffed and I have to send fresh recruits out to watch over the caravans, knowing full well how it's going to end."

"Do you have any idea who's attacking your men?"

Lepelletier shook her head and sighed.

"No. It doesn't look like the raiding parties we usually handle and it's too organized to be a common mutant attack. All I know is that I've got a caravan leaving today for Canterbury Commons and I've just assigned my least experienced men to it."

"What do you need?" Damian asked.

The young woman seemed a little surprised and had trouble hiding her smile.

"I didn't expect you to offer your help. Anyway, you must escort the caravan, and when it is attacked, you would have to find out who is behind the ambush and deal with them."

Lepelletier stood up and called one of another guard and asked him where the caravan was. The caravan had already left for Project Purity twenty minutes earlier. Hearing this, Lepelletier swore in and turned to Damian.

"Go after my men and protect them. Their route takes them along the river from the purifier. Hurry and if the job is done well, I'll make sure you get paid."

Damian nodded and headed back for the purifier. When he arrived there, he questioned one of the soldiers of the Brotherhood about the caravan and Lepelletier's men. The soldier shrugged and in turn asked another soldier who informed Damian that the caravan had already left.

Damian began to follow the river and heard gunshots a little further on. He hurried and arrived not far from the bridge linking D.C. to the Citadel. The shots came from that direction.

Three silhouettes equipped with assault rifles and wearing metal armor with spikes and motorcycle helmets stood behind a wall of tires and fired at a brahmin lying on the side.

Behind the brahmin, a woman wearing Rivet City security armor was vainly trying to resuscitate one of her colleagues.

Damian approached and began firing at the three figures in metal armor. He jumped over the corpse of a man in a merchant's outfit and knelt next to the young woman.

"Who are you?" she asked, raising her head in panic and terror.

"Lepelletier sent me," Damian answered.

The young woman seemed relieved. Damian felt a sheaf of blood on his face. The young woman had just been shot in the head and the plexiglass visor of her helmet had exploded and her face was nothing but a bloody mud. She collapsed on her companion's body.

Damian hit the dirt. He heard the laughter of the three assailants a little further on. Damian rummaged through his bag and grabbed a grenade. He pulled the pin, counted to three and threw it. A hiccup of surprise gave way to an explosion.

Damian got up and removed the dirt and blood from his face. The trailer had been decimated. Lepelletier's two agents were dead, as was the merchant. Damian approached the three assailants. They, too, were dead. Damian began to search them. On one of the corpses he found an holotape. He inserted it into his Pip-Boy and began to listen, as a raspy, authoritative voice came out of his computer's speakers.

_"Hi, this is Split Jack. I'm recording this because I'm sure not half of them can read."_

The tape sizzled and Damian feared it might have been damaged in the explosion.

_"... Attacks the water mules while... With the Enclave... All water deliveries... Will sell the water ... "_

Fortunately, the rest of the tape was less damaged, and Damian knew where to go for the end of his mission. The group responsible for the attacks was holed up at Wilhelm's Wharf and had even found a password to recognize each other.

Damian stripped the merchant from his jacket and putted it over his combat armor, to hide the fact that he was a Ranger and diminish his chances of being shot on sight by the Raiders. He climbed back on the bridge and crossed the river before heading north. He arrived near where the Talon Company had ambushed him and Sarah, and Damian began to wonder if the attacks were not the work of the mercenary group.

The dock in front of Wilhelm's Wharf was occupied by several people. They all wore the same attire as the attackers of Lepelletier's men, metal armor and motorcycle helmets. One of the people present, a man, was sitting at a table just across the entrance to the Wilhelm's Wharf cabin. He was not wearing a helmet and had an eyepatch over his right eye and had a moustache and black goatee and had the entire right side of his head shaved clean.

Damian approached him under the scornful glances of the others. If he had learned anything about the Raiders groups in the Wasteland, was that whoever looked the most mean, vicious, or nasty was usually the leader of the group. In this case, it was more of a gang than a raider group.

"Who the hell are you?" spat the man with the eyepatch.

The other gang members approached and gave Damian a nasty look.

"So, you lost your tongue? Damn, why do I always have to get weirdos."

"Is this the place to hire? asked Damian, who had decided to find out as much as possible about the gang before taking action.

"Password," grunted the man with the eyepatch.

"Mirelurk Stew," Damian replied.

The man's expression softened a little and Damian saw the other gang members scatter.

'Good, it's very simple," the man said. "I'm Split Jack and here I'm the toughest one, so I set the rules and I only have one rule, you do what I say, when I say it."

One of the gang members approached them and, trying to hide that he was uncomfortable, cleared his throat.

"Say, Jack, what's the plan? We've been sitting here for hours doing nothing."

A grin appeared on Split Jack's face and he nodded his head and pointed the way to Rivet City.

"We keep attacking the water caravans and when Rivet City gets tired of seeing their security guards dying, we'll go to them and offer our protection. That way, we control the water and with access to the pure water, we can start to sell it and make a lot of caps."

"Why would people or Rivet City pay for something they can have for free?"

Everyone turned to Damian and stared at him. Split Jack clenched his jaw.

"Because I'm the boss, and I've decided that's the way we're going to do it. But if you have a problem with that, you can always work it out with me."

Split Jack stood up and grabbed a knife and a metal pipe from his back and put them on the table. One of the gang members put down a plank of nailed wood and Damian knew what would happen next.

"Your choice," Split Jack said with a smirk.

Damian looked at the three weapons in front of him and stepped back.

"Pistol," he said, raising his head.

The man with the eyepatch grimaced and gave him an evil look.

"Did I mention guns?"

"No, but I did."

Damian kicked the table, which slid into the legs of Split Jack, who stumbled and fell. At the same time, Damian drew his gun and eliminated the other gang members who had no time to react.

He confronted Split Jack who had got up and ran at him with a knife. Damian dodged the blow and kicked his opponent in the back. The man in the blindfold staggered to the edge of the dock. He stood up and saw the barrel of Damian's gun pointed at him.

Damian fired. Split Jack swung back and fell into the river. Damian looked around and heard the cabin door open behind his back. He turned around and saw an old lady coming out of the cabin.

The old woman looked at the dead bodies on the dock and looked up at Damian.

"You killed my best customers," she said reproachfully.

"Did you know they were Raiders?" Damian asked.

The old woman shrugged.

"I never ask indiscreet questions. Anyway, on the bright side, we now have plenty of bait for the Mirelurks."

Damian reloaded his pistol and put it back in his holster with a grimace. The old woman had already started collecting the bodies behind her cabin and seemed to no longer care about him. Damian retrieved the few magazines he found on the bodies and headed for Megaton.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**What did you think about the whole, putting a cross for Damian's parents? Might be a little cliché, I admit, but it's something I really wanted to put in the story.**

**Until next time.**


	45. Chapter 45: Holy Diver

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well. Nothing very special to say today, except good reading and enjoy.**

* * *

Damian had not set foot in Megaton since he returned from the alien ship, a little over two weeks ago. Yet it seemed to him that he had been gone for months. Moira would probably be happy to see him again, and had certainly prepared an endless list of experiments for him to perform. Damian was too tired for this and went straight home.

A cacophony of discussions, calls for calm and clanging utensils caught Damian's attention. Most of the inhabitants were all gathered around the atomic bomb, and were agitating to be the first to arrive at the two barrels of pure water that a small group of soldiers of the Brotherhood, was trying to reassure and contain.

Damian entered his house and immediately Wadsworth's familiar voice called out to him from the top of the stairs.

_"Mr. Franklin. I'm so glad to see you back in good health... but... My goodness, sir. You're in terrible shape."_

The Mister Handy joined him and advanced its three ocular appendages towards him. Damian grinned, not liking being inspected like that.

_"A hot shower probably won't be enough to clean all that dirt, but I can make you look more presentable with a haircut. I'm no miracle maker though."_

About thirty minutes later, Wadsworth removed the towel full of hair from Damian's neck. The robot had long insisted on hosing Damian down, but Damian had managed to stop the robot from washing him. A bottle of water had been sprayed over Damian's head and face. Damian didn't know how long it had been since he had taken a shower or a bath. One of the first things he would do when he returned to Vault 101 was to empty the water supply to remove all the dirt that seemed to get stuck under his skin.

In the Vault, water was subject to restrictions, so showering had never been a pleasure and the Overseer would charge those who stayed a second too long under the hot water.

Damian admired Wadsworth's work with apprehension. He feared that the robot had shaved his head or done anything else, but he was surprised to find that the Mister Handy had almost exactly replicated the look he had when he left the Vault almost a month ago and had also trimmed his beard, making him look a little more presentable.

"Thank you, Wadsworth," Damian said, putting on his armor.

_"You're welcome, sir."_

The robot went to the kitchen singing.

_"By the way, sir. Miss West stopped by to check on you while you were gone, as did Miss Moira and Mr. Simms."_

Damian thanked the robot again and left the cabin. Outside, the crowd was still queuing outside waiting for a ration of pure water. Damian felt guilty for having wasted a bottle of water to wash himself but consoled himself by remembering that now the purifier was a reality.

Damian approached the railing near his house. He watched the crowd and the poor Brotherhood soldiers trying to keep order. He saw Simms standing on a small platform. The Sheriff, still dressed in his inseparable duster and western hat, also seemed to be having trouble keeping the crowd under control, but when he saw him pulling the breech of his assault rifle and firing a round to the sky, the shouting and insults stopped and the Sheriff's authoritative voice brought everyone to calm down.

Damian decided to wait until the water supply was finished to go and talk to him. He looked for Moira and Lucy. The young woman stood silently in line, holding a string with several military canteens attached to it. Next to her, Damian recognized her younger brother, Ian.

Damian looked at the young woman's blonde hair, looking for the best way to tell her that he didn't feel the same way she did without hurting her. One thing caught his attention. A little away from the crowd, he noticed Moira frantically writing on a piece of paper. Damian couldn't help but smile at the vision of Moira, probably conducting one of her many experiments.

Damian looked up at the sky. A few clouds loomed on the horizon, heralding a rain shower to come. It must have been around 2pm. Damian went back inside to get something to eat.

Neither Lyons nor Rothchild had contacted him. Tristan was still to be at the relay station overseeing Prime's return to the Citadel. The Brotherhood would probably try to replace it as soon as possible. In the meantime, he was free to help Bigsley with his water deliveries.

Damian sat down at the small table on the floor of his cabin and turned on the radio of his Pip-Boy. He immediately heard Three Dog's voice saturating the microphones of his Pip-Boy. The host was still as crazy as he remembered, and Damian was beginning to wonder if he had been a dog or a wolf in a previous life.

Three Dog was commenting on the latest news of the war between the Brotherhood and the Enclave, and even asked for a minute's silence to grieve Liberty Prime.

"How do you keep up with everything without leaving your studio?" Damian wondered when Three Dog started talking again.

Three Dog then went on to report on Damian and Sarah's health, congratulating one of them for waking up and reminding him of all the work that awaited him in the Wasteland and wishing the Sentinel a good recovery.

_"It seems this Mr. Three Dog has made you a hero, Master Franklin,"_ Wadsworth congratulated him.

"I'm no hero," automatically objected Damian, who was getting tired of all the fame hanging over him.

Damian finished his meal and emptied his travel bag. He kept with him what he needed to travel across the Wasteland and a few extra magazines. He wanted to take his Gauss rifle with him, but knowing the Brotherhood, he was afraid they would _"borrow"_ the gun and never give it back.

He went back outside. The water distribution was finished, and the small crowd dispersed except for Simms, the Brotherhood soldiers and a few locals. Damian went down to join them and found that they were not exchanging pleasantries.

"Get back!"

One of the Brotherhood soldiers had just pointed his laser gun at one of the locals. The man didn't move an inch and continued to insult and provoke him.

"Calm down!" Simms begged, interposing himself between the steel mountain and the inhabitants.

He noticed Damian and implored him to come to his aid.

"What's going on? Why are you fighting?"

The soldiers of the Brotherhood stood by a cargo of water from the purifier and seemed ready to protect it by any means necessary.

"Knight," said one of the soldiers. "We have just completed the delivery of water for Megaton and will now deliver the rest of the cargo to Big Town, but they refuse to let us go unless we give them all the water."

Damian turned to the townspeople who insulted the Brotherhood soldiers again. Simms approached Damian and whispered in his ear.

"We have to calm everyone down or we'll end up in a bloodbath."

Other residents began to gather and take sides in the dispute. If the situation got out of hand, Damian was sure that the soldiers would outmatch the residents, but he wanted to avoid a shoot-out at all costs.

"What's the problem?" he asked one of the residents.

"The problem is that the bastards are not giving us enough water!"

"We already delivered two days ago!" replied one of the soldiers. "You had enough to last a week!"

"You fuckin' liar! You make us thirsty while you can drink all the pure water you want!"

"Enough!" Damian shouted.

All eyes turned to him. He sighed and massaged his temples.

"I'm going to settle this. In the meantime, no one will shoot anyone, and this shipment will go to Big Town as planned. Now if you're so anxious to take that water by force and get disintegrate, be my guest."

Simms frowned and looked with apprehension at the townspeople and soldiers. They gathered around the remaining barrels and looked nervously around them.

Eventually one of the residents grunted and raised his arms in the air as a sign of defeat and walked away, quickly imitated by the rest of the crowd. Damian let out a small sigh of relief. He was not sure if he could convince everyone, but he had succeeded.

"Damn, kid, that was close," Simms sighed as he lifted his hat and wiped his forehead. "The last thing we need is a shooting with the Brotherhood downtown."

"Sorry, Sheriff, I wasn't sure I could get us out of there without any bloodshed."

The Brotherhood caravan made its way safely to the door and the residents returned to their business.

"Do you have any information about those missing deliveries?" Damian asked. "I'm sure the Brotherhood is honoring its part of the delivery and playing fair with you."

"I confess I don't understand any of that kid, kid. We're getting water, yes, but it's hardly enough to last until the next delivery."

Shouts came from the entrance of the city. Fearing that the Brotherhood caravan might be attacked, Damian and Simms rushed to the gates.

Outside the city, a Black woman dressed in rags was crying. Next to her, the beggar at the entrance to the city was shaken with spasm and held his belly screaming.

"What's going on?" Simms asked, looking at the woman and the beggar.

"I... I... I gave him some water and he started screaming and writhing in pain and..."

Damian approached the beggar. The man, with a last sigh, pointed to an empty water bottle next to him. Damian picked up the water bottle and approached his Pip-Boy. The pointer of the Geiger counter began to move. Damian turned the bottle in his hand. The inscription _"holy water"_ had recently been written on the bottle in felt pen.

"Did you give this to him?" Damian asked, pointing to the water bottle.

The woman in tears nodded, saying she didn't know the water would kill the beggar. Damian gave the bottle to Simms, who inspected it.

"Who gave you this water?"

The woman sniffed loudly and pointed to the ruined town of Springvale.

"A man in one of the Springvale houses. He said it was holy water, that it came from his monastery, and it was going to help the people."

She rummaged through her clothes and pulled out a crumpled, yellowed paper and handed it to Damian. He gave it to Simms and tried to comfort the woman. The woman shook her head and stared at the beggar's corpse.

Simms gave the paper back to Damian, who began to read it as several residents ran to see what was happening.

The paper spoke of a monastery in the ruins of Springvale and of a certain _"Brother Gerard"_, distributing holy water free of charge and claiming to be _"the Apostles of the Holy Light"_.

"Any idea who these people are? asked Damian. Disciples of this confessor of the Children of Atom at Megaton?"

"No," replied Simms. "I've never heard Cromwell talk about anything like that in all his non-sense."

"I think we've just found out where all the water the Brotherhood gives you goes."

Simms grumbled something and watched several of the inhabitants carry the beggar's corpse away. He removed the magazine from his assault rifle, checked the amount of ammunition inside and put it back in his gun before going down the hill.

"Where are you going?" Damian asked.

"Fix the problem! If these lunatics distribute irradiated water around Megaton, they're going to have to deal with Sheriff Lucas Simms!"

Damian sighed and joined him in a few short strides.

"I don't need a nanny," grumbled the Sheriff.

"Maybe, but we don't know what we're going to find in that monastery and I think we can solve this situation without firing a single shot."

Simms stared at Damian for a long time before shrugging and waving to follow him.

The monastery was in one of the ruined houses in Springvale, the closest to the road and the least damaged. The new occupants had set up junk barricades around the house and decorated it with orange and white barrels of radioactive clover.

"Charming," commented Simms as he walked around the house.

An elderly man with a bald head, wearing a hooded sweatshirt, fatigues, and large leather boots, came out of the house and walked towards them, spreading his arms and smiling.

"Welcome to the monastery of the Apostles of the Holy Light. I am Brother Gerard. Here, accept this: water, blessed by us."

Simms and Damian exchanged glances. The man in front of them, apart from his outlandish speech, seemed normal, and did not seem to have any warlike intentions.

Damian grabbed the bottle and twirled it in his hand. The bottle was identical to the one the beggar had drunk.

"Are you aware that the water you give is radioactive? It killed a man!" Simms cried out.

"I'm sorry, but you must drink the holy water to purify your tongue and let the Light of Atom shine in your eyes. Then we can talk."

"You've got to stop this, old man," said Simms. "Cult or no, holy water or regular water, I don't want any more irradiated beverage on the outskirts of my town."

Brother Gerard, like an automaton, repeated his words. Simms sighed and glanced briefly at Damian.

"We have to get into to that monastery," Simms told Brother Gerard.

"I'm sorry, but..."

Simms cocked his fist and thrust it into Brother Gerard's face. The man staggered back and collapsed on the cracked concrete of the front porch.

Simms glanced at Damian, who was careful not to make a remark. Inside the house a bathtub, mounted on a pallet and connected to batteries and electric cables, was next to a small wooden altar.

"What is that thing?"

Simms was observing the strange device. On the altar, a switch was connected to the batteries and Damian noticed several barrels of radioactive material arranged around the house. Simms approached the altar and activated the switch.

The batteries were switched on and the bathtub began to fill with water. Damian approached his Geiger counter and it began to sizzle. The water seemed to be radiated through the batteries and the installation was to be used for a ritual for the believers of the monastery.

Damian searched the house and came across a wooden trap door in the floor, locked with a padlock. Simms turned to Brother Gerard, still lying in the entrance, and searched him. He came back a few seconds later with a small rusty key that he inserted into the padlock that opened.

They lifted the trap door that opened onto a small staircase. Damian and Simms walked down the stairs into a brick basement. To their left, several garden benches were set up in front of an altar, behind which an elderly woman was preaching. Above her, the radioactive clover, cut from a barrel, had been fixed to the wall.

When the old woman saw them coming, she stopped her sermon and the few people sitting on the benches turned around and Damian saw that they were ghouls.

"Oh, our sanctuary is receiving visitors. But I'm afraid we're ready to greet you properly now."

She looked behind Damian and Simms, as if she expected someone else to arrive. Seeing no one, and seeing Simms massaging his hand, she looked sad and lowered her head slightly.

"Poor Brother Gerard," she sighed.

"Oh, no, don't worry about him," said Simms. "He's just taking a quick nap."

The old woman wasn't sure what to say and, after a slight hesitation, invited Damian and the Sheriff to come in.

"I'm Mother Curie III and I lead the Apostles of the Holy Light. What do you want, my children?"

Simms introduced himself and Damian. He began to explain the situation to the old woman, who was beginning to speak the same weird words as Brother Gerard.

As she spoke, she invited them to follow her into the rest of the basement. After passing by a dormitory and going down another staircase, they arrived in a large room, filled with yellow barrels from the Jefferson Memorial and barrels of radioactive products. On a table, several bottles of pure water piled up next to empty water bottles with the words _"holy water"_ written on them.

A system similar to that of the upstairs bathtub was in the room and in a corner of the room, Damian saw two feral ghouls, tied to the wall with a collar and chains.

"I think I've found where all the water delivered by the Brotherhood ends up," said Damian, looking more closely at the machines.

Apparently, the Apostles ordered Aqua Pura from the Brotherhood, saying they lived in Megaton. Once they were delivered, they added radiation to it and distributed it to the travelers. The main problem, Damian saw, was that this _"holy water"_ was more radioactive than dirty water and that it eventually turned people into ghouls or killed them.

"You have to stop, now," Simms ordered.

The old woman refused and began to justify herself, arguing that it was the will of her God, Atom, and that he had chosen her to spread _"His Light"_.

The discussion reached a dead end and Damian feared that Simms would lose his temper. Damian grabbed the bottle that Brother Gerard had given him and, after a final hesitation, uncorked it and drank it all at once.

It was probably one of the stupidest things he had ever done, like charging Super Mutants with a grenade or inspecting the radio signal from the alien ship, but if he was right, or at least he hoped he had been, his plan was the best way to put an end to the story.

Damian felt the radioactive water go down his throat. He had survived Moira's radiation experiments and the energy surge from the purifier. His body made him resistant to the radiation, but he would have preferred an alternative.

"I am the Prophet of Atom!"

Everyone went silent looked at him. Simms stared at him with his eyebrows raised, and the ghouls and the old woman had their mouths ajar and their eyes wide open.

Damian's chest was slightly bulging, and he had raised his voice. He felt deeply ridiculous. The old priestess stared at him for a few seconds and knelt before him, immediately imitated by the other ghouls.

"Lord! Your Light! Your eyes shine with a thousand fires and your skin radiates the warmth of Atom!"

Damian discreetly looked at his arms and hands but saw nothing abnormal. Simms kept looking at him strangely and Damian motioned to him that everything was okay.

"I am the Prophet of Atom!" Damian repeated. "I command you to stop irradiating the water!"

"My Lord, we... I...," stammered the old woman.

She bowed to Damian and began to mumble a prayer.

"Forgive us our sins, Lord! I... We... We will continue to preach Your word but without the holy water, according to Your wishes!"

"You will return all the Aqua Pura and clean water to Megaton and... Go and preach in my name elsewhere!"

The old woman nodded frantically. She got up hastily and began, with the ghouls, to throw away the bottles of irradiated water.

Damian and Simms watched them, and two of the ghouls loaded the barrels of Aqua Pura onto a wheelbarrow and climbed the stairs, bowing to Damian and repeating that they were going to return the water to Megaton.

"You're quite a piece of work, you know that?" the Sheriff said.

Damian and Simms had returned to the gates of Megaton and made sure the ghouls returned all the water they had taken to the Brotherhood.

"For a moment there I thought you've gone crazy after drinking that crap."

"Sorry, Sheriff," Damian smiled. "It was the only way I could see to get us out of there without bloodshed."

Simms shrugged.

"The important thing is that the problem is solved, but if I were you, I'd be careful, your eyes are glowing."

Damian startled and grabbed his Pip-Boy. He placed the screen in front of his eyes and tried to look at his pupils. He heard Simms laugh out loud and the Sheriff patted him on the shoulder in a friendly gesture.

"Okay, Mr. Prophet, I have a water supply to oversee."

Damian sighed and watched him walk away. He had just solved Megaton's Aqua Pura supply problem. He wanted to return to the purifier to inform Bigsley, but first he wanted to get to Moira's house. Moira probably had a lot of wacky stuff to make him do, and he was still curious to see what her book might look like.

At the same time, the Brotherhood's long-range radio sizzled. Damian grabbed the device and placed it near his ear.

"Uh... Hello?" Damian said, as he had no idea what to answer.

_"Lone Wanderer, Lyons' Pride actual,"_ said the voice over the speakers.

_"Why did I decide to use that nickname the other day?"_ Damian sighed as he answered.

"Tristan, is that you?"

"_Affirm. We just finished inspecting the relay station and got our hands on some more data. We'll give it to be analyzed and decrypted when we get back to the Citadel."_

"Okay, understood," replied Damian, who was already anticipating the long wait before Rothchild's scribes deciphered all the data.

_"I got a new assignment for you. We asked the Rangers for help with something and decided to send you there as backup. They wait for you at the Anacostia metro."_

"Uh... All right."

_"When you're done, report back and we'll see how the scribes are doing, but I think it's going to take them some time to decipher everything. Pride actual, over and out."_

Damian turned off the radio and started heading towards the Ranger HQ.

Two hours later, Damian entered Anacostia station under a pouring rain. On the way, he had stopped at the Jefferson Memorial and Rivet City to tell Bigsley and Leppeletier that their problems had been solved.

The scribe looked as sleepy as ever and was buried under a mass of files and piles of papers. He had thanked Damian with a vague gesture of the hand and mentioned a payment at the entrance to the museum before falling asleep on his desk.

Damian had gone to collect his money and then told Leppeletier that the looters were dead. The young woman welcomed the news and thanked Damian with a pouch of caps.

He wiped the rain off his face and walked in the corridors of the station, before seeing Reilly and her men.

When they saw him, they all smiled warmly, visibly happy to see him awake and well.

"What's going on?" Damian asked.

As an answer, Donovan motioned for him to lower his voice and to come closer. He, Butcher and Reilly stood near the corridor going up to Seward Square. They all had their guns in their hands and were watching the exit of the station.

"Our friends from the Enclave have set up shop right outside the Seward metro exit," Butcher explained. We were on our way back from Rivet City when we heard a Vertibird land take off a few minutes after."

"You think they dropped some troops?" Damian asked.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Reilly biting the tip of her thumb. She was looking at the metro exit and seemed to be lost in her thoughts.

"Pretty sure, yeah," Donovan replied. "The thing is, it's not that we can't deal with a bunch of these guys, but when we contacted the Brotherhood to inform them of the situation, they asked us to engage and proceed to a snatch."

Damian raised an eyebrow, as he did not understand what the Ranger said.

"They want us to take a prisoner."

"They really asked that?"

Damian was quite surprised at the Brotherhood's request. Whether it was during the Battle of the purifier or during the assault on the relay station, all Enclave troops who had wanted to surrender were gunned down.

Rothchild and his scribes may have anticipated that the deciphering of the data would be long and complicated and decided to ask one the help of an Enclave prisoner.

"Strange huh?" said Reilly without taking her eyes off the metro exit. "Knowing your hatred for these guys, I'm surprised that the Brotherhood has put you on this mission.

"Hmm, yeah, and assuming we can capture one of them," said Damian. "What do we do after?"

"We are supposed to hand him over to the Brotherhood as soon as possible. Then we've earned ourselves a beer."

The other Rangers nodded. Footsteps echoed down the corridor leading to the surface. Donovan aimed his gun but lowered it when he saw Brick coming their way.

"So?" Reilly asked.

"There are five of them. Power armors and regular weapons. Plasma rifles and frag grenades. They stopped in the square."

"What do you think they're doing here?" Damian asked.

"Seward Square is close to Rivet City and therefore to the purifier. From there, you can also get to the Mall either by using the metro or by crossing the Capitol. You can also go to Pennsylvania Avenue."

"You think they want to establish a new forward base to attack Rivet City or the Jefferson Memorial?"

"With only five guys, I don't think. They are probably a recon team, send to find a nice place to harass us or the Brotherhood," replied Reilly. "Now that Big Chungus Prime is out of action, and the only access to Seward being the metro, they'll probably try to organize raiding parties on Jefferson Memorial or the Citadel from the ruins of D.C. and with the only access being the metro, it will be fuckin nightmare if we want to dislodge them from there."

"You said we could get to the Mall through the Capitol. Maybe they want to control the place, given its historical importance," Damian said. "Not sure if it's a good tactic move or not, but it's a possibility."

The Rangers exchanged nervous glances.

"Yeah, maybe" nodded Reilly. "Problem is the Super Mutants have been occupying the place for quite a while, despite the Talons' efforts to flush them out. They are occupying the Eastern entrance to the Capitol, as well as the surrounding buildings."

Damian nodded. Whatever the reason the Enclave was here, he and the Rangers were going to attack them and try to take a prisoner.

"Speaking of the assholes, what about them?" Reilly asked, turning to Brick.

"Talon's bastards haven't noticed them, I think, and I don't think they, or the Enclave will engage each other in a firefight. Let's just hope they don't come and join the party."

Reilly nodded and turned to her men and began giving orders.

"Donovan, you're on point with me. We'll position ourselves in the small alley and try to find a firing position in one of the houses overlooking the square. Brick, you set up at the intersection with Eugene and cover or flank. Butcher, you stay at the metro exit and cover our rear and provide backup to Brick if needed."

Butcher nodded and unfolded the stock of his wanted to protest further but finally nodded his head mm SMG and prepared his first aid kit.

"You," said Reilly, turning to Damian. "You can come with Donovan and me, or you can go with Brick."

Damian had no doubt that Brick or Butcher could provide the necessary firepower in case of trouble, on the other hand, she might need help if she had to redeploy her minigun, in case unwanted guests decided to join the party. Also, he wasn't sure if he could leave one of the Enclave soldiers alive, so he decided to let Reilly and Donovan handle it.

"I'm going with Brick."

Reilly nodded. She rummaged through one of the saddlebags in her belt and pulled out a small radio which she gave to Damian.

"Here, it's on the good frequency already. We found them the other day in the Northern part of the ruins. I'd prefer to offer you diner to celebrate you coming out of coma, but this will do for the moment."

Damian put the earpiece in his ear. Reilly looked at the other Rangers, then turned around to the metro exit and headed into the hallway, followed by her men.

* * *

**I always liked the reaction of the Brotherhood soldiers after they blast the Megaton settlers trying to steal the water in the game, like nothing particular happened and it's just a regular day at the office. Couldn't really put that in here as they are supposed to be the good guys.**

**I could actually never finish the water quest in Megaton other than killing everyone (damn RNG and speech % requirements).**

**The Rangers are back and in next chapter, something not in the base game (yeah no shit, dude, like the end of that chapter wasn't an obvious hint) and that I hope you'll like.**

**Until next time.**


	46. Chapter 46: POW

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well. In today's chapter, we follow Damian and the Rangers in their attempt to take an Enclave soldier as prisoner.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

Never had Damian seen so much water falling from the sky at once, so much so that it became difficult to see beyond the curtain of rain. All around him, the raindrops were crashing on the broken glass canopy of the metro exit, the brick and marble of buildings or the metal of car wrecks, all resulting in an infernal cacophony. A torrential, heavy rain that whipped the skin, causing a stream of water to run down the steps and escalators of the metro exit and make the floor slippery.

Damian glanced briefly at his Geiger counter and was relieved to see that it was silent. He looked at the other Rangers. They all had battle helmets on their heads to match their armor and splinter brown and green camouflage pattern raincoat poncho over their armors. Damian had also been given one by Butcher, but he envied them to keep their heads dry.

The area around the metro exit was deserted. Brick and Damian advanced to a large crater, slowly filling with water in the center of the street. From there they could see Seward Square main plaza, with its two destroyed driveways, and behind it, the park at the foot of the Capitol building, once the center of American politics, now a ruin among many others. The white marble dome of the building was still standing, and Damian noticed that the facade of the building had been fortified.

Donovan and Reilly crossed the street and entered a small alley in the center of a pavilion. The brick houses did not seem to belong to this world, as the bright colors of their facades were in contrast to the depressing grey and white of the rest of the devastated city.

Just before rushing into one of the houses, Damian saw the two Rangers exchanging a small grey grenade.

"What is it?" he asked Brick.

"It's a pulse grenade. It's usually used when you pass a robot in the ruins. It toasts their circuits and saves bullets. It's also very effective against power armor."

Damian wanted to know more but decided to postpone his questions for later.

The plaza was lined with several small shops and a cinema. From where he was, Damian could see the silhouettes of the Enclave soldiers, as well as the nets, filled with flesh and bones left behind by the Super Mutants.

_"Donovan,"_ Reilly's voice sounded on the small radio. _"Try to go to that house, North of the square. If those bastards try to get around us, light them up."_

After a few seconds, Donovan's voice crackled in the radio, indicating he was ready.

_"Butcher?"_ Reilly asked.

_"I'm ready."_

_" Brick? Franklin?"_

"We're in position, boss," Brick said, raising the gunner iron sight on her minigun.

Several seconds passed, until Damian heard a series of small explosions. He could see the silhouettes of the Enclave soldiers running for cover and some of them collapsing to the ground after being hit by some kind of giant electric balls.

Damian heard the staccato of Donovan's rifle.

_"Flanking maneuver! Brick, two coming your way!"_ the mercenary said.

"Let them come!" Brick cried out. "Eugene and I are waiting for them!"

The shooting only lasted a few seconds. Reilly and Donovan were still firing and Damian and Brick took out two of the enemy soldiers who were trying to get around their position.

_"One's getting away! Donovan!"_

_"I'm pinned! Three Super Mutants on the streets at my nine o'clock!"_

Damian looked over the rim of the crater. He could see a figure running away from the square.

_"Brick, go help Donovan! Butcher, you go with her! Franklin, get that son of a bitch!"_

Damian climbed over the crater rim and ran towards the square, climbing over the car wrecks when he could not pass by.

The remaining Enclave soldier was heading towards a destroyed building. Damian accelerated the pace to catch up with him. If the fugitive managed to enter one of the buildings or the metro, he could easily lose Damian.

The soldier, clearly an officer, judging by his cap and grey uniform under a black raincoat, was desperately trying to open the building's emergency exit.

"Stop, you bastard!"

Damian didn't expect the man to comply, but the officer turned around and, seeing Damian approaching, tried to force the door open. He turned around again and seeing that Damian was only a few meters away from him, he left the door and started running to a metro exit on the other side of the square.

Damian looked briefly over his shoulder. The Super Mutants attacking Donovan were almost all dead. Damian could see other silhouettes on the Capitol's facade, but with the rain curtain, he wasn't sure if they were humans or Super Mutants.

Damian was right behind the officer. He was approaching the metro exit. Damian dove forward and grabbed the officer by the hips, propelling him into the escalator.

They fell down the metal steps, which had become slippery from the rain, and stopped against the closed station fenced gate.

Amidst the creaking of the gate, the rain and the sporadic shooting from the square, Damian thought he heard a ghoul's growl in his back.

The Enclave officer was already standing and looking at the entrance of the metro, terrified. Damian looked over his shoulder and saw several feral ghouls scurrying towards the gate. Damian crawled away and as he got up, felt that he was being pushed.

He stumbled and landed against the gate. He smelled the foul breath of the ghouls and retreated just in time to avoid being scratched or bitten.

The gate was about to break. Damian swore and grabbed his assault rifle and fired at the ghouls, who scattered and returned to the depths of the station. Damian turned around. The Enclave officer of the Enclave was already at the top of the escalators.

Damian heard him growl and saw him run down the escalators towards him. At the top, the silhouettes of Reilly and Donovan were outlined in the rain.

Damian looked at the gate and the dark corridor leading down to the station and turned to the officer of the Enclave who was trying to get up.

"Here, put these on him."

Damian raised his head and grabbed the pair of handcuffs Reilly was throwing at him. He turned the officer of the Enclave violently on his stomach and tied his hands behind his back.

Donovan walked down the steps and grabbed the officer by the collar of his uniform and dragged him to the top of the escalators.

"Come on, man, there are some people who want to talk to you."

The officer, still stunned by the blow and the fall, offered no resistance. Damian climbed the steps and massaged his neck, sore from the fall against the fence.

"For a moment, I thought you had gunned him down," said Reilly.

"Not that I wouldn't do it, but if the Brotherhood has asked you to take a prisoner, they have their reasons."

Reilly nodded silently. She turned around to see Brick and Butcher arrive on the double.

"We'd better get out of here," Butcher said. "The guys from the Talon Company are probably coming to see what happened, and the Super Mutants could be back any minute."

Reilly signaled her men to follow her and the small group headed for the Anacostia station. Damian followed them inside the station and was surprised to see that the Rangers didn't go through the station to Rivet City but through the tunnels heading the Mall.

"Aren't we taking him back to Citadel?"

"No," answered Reilly. "We've been asked to hand him over to a Brotherhood patrol at the Washington Monument, from there I believe they'll take him to another outpost in the ruins, or they'll take him back themselves outside D.C."

Transporting a prisoner through the destroyed tunnels of the D.C. metro was no easy task. In addition to the dangers lurking in the tunnels, the Rangers had to keep an eye on their prisoner, who, even in handcuffs, could easily escape through the tunnels and maintenance corridors.

Reilly and Damian walked at the head of the group and Brick and Donovan closed the march and constantly glanced over their shoulders and lit up the deserted tunnel to make sure they were not followed. Butcher walked in the middle of the group and guarded the prisoner who was beginning to realize what was happening to him.

Damian lit the path in front of him, his Pip-Boy's lamp adding to Reilly's lamp strapped to her rifle. The two beams of light swept across the small space between the walls and the track where the small group piled up, the deserted train cars and got lost at the bottom of the tunnel.

"Who are you?" asked the officer of the Enclave, looking at Butcher and the others.

"The Reilly's Rangers," Brick answered proudly.

"Never heard of you," the prisoner said with a grin.

"The Wasteland are vast. Not everyone has heard of us yet," Reilly replied.

"So, you're gun for hire? Mercenaries?"

All the Rangers nodded at the same time, except Damian. The officer noticed Damian's Pip-Boy.

"And you must be that kid from Vault 101? The one who assassinated the President."

"Hey, you hear that Brick?" said Donovan. "We recruited Lee Harvey Oswald!"

Brick choked back a laugh and got serious when she met Reilly's inquisitive gaze. Damian just kept walking until he started talking.

"You and the Enclave are nothing but murderers and sick people. You kill people in the Wasteland, you executed part of Project Purity's scientific team, you conducted experiments on humans in your bunker at Raven Rock, and your beloved President, who by the way was a just a pre-war computer, wanted to decimate the entire population of the Wasteland by spreading a virus in the purifier."

The officer replied with a scornful grunt and a head movement.

"You must think I'm going to give you information about our base of operations or the weapon we used to destroy your beloved robot. But I'd rather die than give you any information or help you at all. Kind of like your father."

Damian jumped back and crushed his fist into the jaws of the officer who fell to the ground.

"Hey easy man!" Donovan cried out. "He needs to be able to talk when we deliver him!"

"Don't you dare talk about my father, you bastard!" Damian shouted.

He felt a hand close on his arm and saw Butcher and Reilly pulling him away.

"Calm down, soldier," Reilly hissed. "If you want to blow off steam, do it on the mutants or the Raiders, not on him."

The Enclave officer spat out the blood in his mouth and turned his head towards Damian. He opened his mouth to talk, but Brick pinned him down to keep him from talking.

Damian was about to draw his gun and put a bullet in his head and wipe that arrogant smile off his face. He took a deep breath before walking away into the tunnel and waited for Reilly and the others to join him to continue on their way to the Mall.

After a few seconds, the prisoner started talking again, but this time he spoke to Reilly.

"How much?" he asked.

"'_How much'_ what?" replied the young woman.

The officer sneered before answering.

"You are mercenaries, aren't you? How much, to let me go back?"

"Don't bother," Reilly answered. "This time, it's not a question of caps."

About ten minutes later, Damian and the Rangers arrived at Smithsonian Station. Two Brotherhood soldiers greeted them on the platform and after briefly questioning them and telling them who they should see, let them pass.

They left the station in the pouring rain and headed for the Washington Monument.

Since Damian had been there to repair the Galaxy News Radio antenna, the place had been fortified again. Four soldiers in pwer armor stood guard, sheltered in small wooden bunkers and sandbags on either side of the entrance, and the Brotherhood had also salvaged Enclave manufactured barricades and watchtowers to place within the monument's walls to provide a better view to the trenches.

Several Sentry bots and Mister Gutsy patrolled around the concrete barricade erected around the monument. The steel gate slid open and they entered to shelter from the rain and the Super Mutants in the surrounding buildings and trenches.

Behind the monument, Damian noticed a strange scene. Several soldiers of the Brotherhood were standing near the Mall small water pond and were throwing something into it.

Damian let Reilly talk to the sentries at the outpost and approached the soldiers and the pond.

The two soldiers were talking in a low voice and were carrying what looked like a dead body. One soldier was holding the body by the legs and the other by the arms. They swung the body faster and faster and, with the help of their power armor, threw it far into the water.

"What are you doing?" Damian asked.

One of the soldiers turned to him, and recognizing him, gave him a brief military salute. Damian then noticed that the corpses were ghouls, and a little further on he saw a shipment of barrels of Aqua Pura.

"Getting rid of these ghouls, Knight," said the soldier. "We caught them sneaking out of the metro with a load of water from the purifier. The Brotherhood doesn't give water to the ghouls, so the only explanation is that they stole it."

Damian thought for a moment, when he asked the soldier if it was possible that the ghouls had bought the water from a colony, the soldier shrugged.

"Who would go and sell purified water to these zombies? All the colonies in the area are fighting to get a barrel, so I don't see who would have fun parting with it, even for caps and especially for ghouls."

The soldier turned around and grabbed a new corpse and threw it into the pond.

Damian looked in the direction of the Museum of History and Underworld. When he had stopped there a few days ago, he didn't have the impression that the ghouls were missing or needed non-irradiated water, unlike humans. Of course, the ghouls remained human, inwardly, but just as the Mirelurks would die because of the clean water in the Tidal Basin, purified water could have long-term harmful effects on the ghouls.

Damian took one last look at the ghoul corpses before returning to the Rangers. The Rangers had gone inside the outpost and seemed to be waiting for someone.

A soldier in power armor came towards them, wrapped in a piece of brown cloth as a raincoat. He stopped in front of Reilly and Damian came closer to hear what he had to say.

"Paladin Berrings, Second Monument Defense Regiment."

"Reilly, of Reilly's Rangers," introduced herself the young woman.

"So, you're the one delivering the goods today?" asked the Paladin as he laid eyes on the Enclave officer.

"That's right," answered Reilly. "Glad we can get rid of him."

"Great. The squad tasked with retrieving him should be here any minute. In the meantime, we'll put him in a warm place and maybe prepare the ground for them."

He approached the prisoner and stared at him through the visor of his helmet.

"Looks like he's been through some rough time."

"He gave us a bit of a struggle," Reilly replied, giving Damian a corner glance.

"All that matters, is that he can still talk. I just hope that will still be the case after we've taken care of him."

The officer hardly swallowed his saliva. He looked at the Paladin, Reilly and the various soldiers and Rangers present.

Berrings waved his hand and two Brotherhood soldiers grabbed the prisoner by the arms and pulled him into the outpost.

"Fucking bastard!" he yelled. "You, mercenaries fight for money, while we fight for honor!"

"Each of us fights for what he lacks most," answered Reilly with a smile.

The prisoner struggled and one of the soldiers punched him in the stomach and dragged him out of sight of the others.

Berrings continued talking with Reilly, and Damian walked away to the concrete barricade and looked through a small hole in the ruins.

The ground between the Washington Monument and the Capitol was still occupied by the Super Mutants and from time to time Damian could see them peeking out of trenches or fortified positions. The images from the simulation resurfaced in his memory and Damian chased them away with a head shake.

Who could have built these fortifications and trenches? It was a question he had asked himself as soon as he arrived on the Mall, when he had witnessed the violent skirmish between the mutants and the Brotherhood, which had forced him to take shelter in Underworld and allowed him to meet Reilly.

Did this trench system exist before the Great War, or was it built after the bombs fell? Was it, as with the various antipersonnel mines still present in some places of the Wasteland, a series of fortifications erected by the US Army in the aftermath of the Great War, in case of a possible Chinese invasion?

The other hypothesis, was that the Super Mutants occupying the Mall had dug the trenches, but Damian could not imagine them capable of erecting such defenses, even if they had already shown themselves full of surprises.

Paladin Berrings had mentioned a special detachment attached to the protection of the Washinton Monument. The Brotherhood probably had to watch over the obelisk and its radio antennas to enable Three Dog to transmit into the Wastes. Perhaps it was the Brotherhood that dug these trenches, to protect the various monuments and museums of the Mall and to facilitate their exploration and that of the surrounding ruins.

The Super Mutants may have had to attack them and forced them to abandon the trenches, forcing the Brotherhood to position themselves around the obelisk and launch bloody assaults to dislodge the mutants from the fortifications and re-establish themselves there.

In this case, this was related to the other question that many in the Brotherhood were asking. Why did the Super Mutants embark on this crusade to exterminate the humans or make them become like them?

Damian knew that the Super Mutants were not the result of radiation, as many had assumed before he discovered Vault 87 and the experiments that had taken place there. But what he would have liked to know was what could have caused these abominations to hunt, kill and capture humans.

At first, he had thought of a kind of instinct, the same instinct that causes an animal to act like all members of its species, inoculated by mutation, but he had scratched this idea out when he met Fawkes. Fawkes had not once shown uncontrolled aggression or behaved like his _"meta-human brothers" _and he was saddened by the mere thought of being compared to them.

Was there somewhere a supreme leader of the Super Mutants, a behemoth bigger and uglier than the others, who gave orders to his fellow humans, sitting on a throne made of wrecked cars and wearing a necklace of human skulls. A _"Master"_ or some kind of deity, worshipped by the Super Mutants and who ordered them to transform or kill all humans?

Damian was pulled from his thoughts by a series of shots. The shots came from the other side of the Mall, towards the Capitol.

Berrings turned to one of his men in one of the watchtowers. He took the binoculars out from in front of his eyes and told him that he could not see anything.

"Any of your men?" Reilly asked.

"No," replied Berrings. "Our men coming to retrieve the prisoner are supposed to come from the Citadel and must arrive by the museum station. The whole detachment is here at the Washington Monument, plus a few sentries in the station below us to warn of a surprise attack."

The fire was increasing in intensity and seemed to come from the buildings between the Capitol and the History Museum.

"Do you think it's Talon Company?" Donovan asked Butcher.

"It's possible," replied the Ranger medic. "They've been trying for weeks to dislodge the Super Mutants from the Capitol. For all we know, they may have decided to secure the surrounding buildings here."

A loud explosion sounded. The attack ceased, as suddenly as it had begun.

"Whatever it was," said Reilly, grabbing her rifle. "It's over."

She turned to her men who grabbed their things and began to move toward the exit of the outpost.

"Are you coming?" the young woman asked Damian.

"No, I think I'll stay here for a while," he said.

"As you wish. It was nice seeing you again, Ranger. Remember to drop in at the HQ. Will celebrate the end of your coma."

The young woman left the outpost. Damian looked at her as she joined her men and they ran towards the metro entrance.

Damian wanted to stay at the outpost and was personally eager to interrogate himself the prisoner, but he was also sure that the Brotherhood would not let him get close to him.

The squad coming to pick up the prisoner arrived a few minutes later, during which Damian listened to the radio and waited for the call from Tristan or the Citadel.

The Brotherhood group had left for an unknown destination in the ruins of D.C., and Damian in turn was about to leave the outpost. His gaze fell upon the trenches filled with Super Mutants and the scene of the shooting he had heard earlier.

"What's over there?" he asked one of the guards.

"I think that's the National Archives and right behind it is a metro station that links the Mall to Pennsylvania Avenue."

Damian remembered that he'd already heard about this Mall Museum and the face of the old history buff who lived in Rivet City came back to him.

Damian thanked the guard and left the outpost. He reached the entrance of the metro and the History Museum and walked along the front of the building, keeping an eye on the trenches and fortified positions from which, from time to time, Super Mutants appeared and scanned the area.

Damian's outfit was not especially suited for moving around in an urban environment. The flak armor of his Ranger outfit gave him decent protection against bullets or shrapnel, but the green color of the armor was far too conspicuous in the midst of the grey and white that reigned in the ruins of D.C. Furthermore, the weather seemed to be getting worse and the temperatures would soon drop, and Damian would have to find something to protect himself from the cold while still protecting himself from bullets.

He found himself envious of the Brotherhood's heavy but thick power armor, which, despite their often-deteriorated condition, made them blend into this ruined setting. Damian remembered that he had a US Army combat armor at home with a winter camouflage pattern. He decided to put it on when he returned to Megaton, but rejected the idea, realizing that the grey and white of the armor would not help him in the brown and beige of the Wasteland unless it started to snow, which he doubted.

Damian sighed, and as he thought about how to improve his wardrobe, he arrived in front of the National Archives.

The building was at the end of a large pedestrian walkway, wedged between destroyed office buildings. A large white stone staircase led up to the entrance and the façade of the museum, in an architectural style reminiscent of ancient Greek and Roman buildings. Between the columns, the remains of American flags floated slowly, beaten by the wind and the light rain that was still falling.

Damian looked around him. A small alley disappeared on the side and behind the building and was to lead to the metro exit mentioned by the soldier. He tapped nervously his fingers on the handle of his assault rifle and climbed the steps.

Just above the entrance, a face, carved in stone, looked out over the ruins of D.C. and watched the entrance to the National Archives.

These carvings were something Damian had always found strange. Whether it was the bronze female figures on the corners of the Chevy Chase buildings, the faces carved in marble on the facades of museums in the Mall, the giant busts, overturned in the ruins or on the walls of the buildings, or the gigantic naked male statues in those metal circles, like in Seward Square or on the banks of the Potomac, Damian had always wondered who they could represent or why they were depicted this.

Pre-war America seemed to him to be such a strange and different world. In addition to these statues, Damian had noticed that his pre-war ancestors, like the Children of Atom, seemed to worship nuclear energy and weapons. Board games whose goal was to escape an atomic explosion, comic book heroes drawing their powers from uranium, the morbid fascination of the old world for an energy capable of reducing it to dust was an intriguing thing.

Damian entered the National Archives. The door had been destroyed by an explosion and a few pieces of flesh, identifiable as belonging to Super Mutants, were scattered around.

The entrance hall was built of marble and retained the ancient architectural style of the facade. In the center, a white wall, tarnished by the years, divided the room in two. The torn canvas of a painting was still hanging there, surrounded by its gilded frame.

Bones were on the floor, the last remains of visitors or passers-by, who had come to shelter from the bombs before succumbing to radiation.

Damian could see the light of a fire coming from behind the wall, as well as traces of blood leading to other mutant corpses. Damian went around the wall, his rifle pointed in front of him. On each side of the room, a metal door reserved for museum staff, allowing access to the technical rooms or offices of the building.

A broken double wooden door led to a large rectangular room, dimly lit by construction lamps and a brazier behind a wall of sandbags at the back of the room. The floor was littered with debris, dirt and dead Super Mutant corpses. The room was lined with white marble columns and wooden shelves, tables and furniture were scattered all over the room, as if to form a defensive perimeter.

Damian stepped over a destroyed column lying on the floor and froze. A few centimeters from his feet, a mine. He slowly moved away from the explosive while looking around to make sure no other traps were nearby.

One part of the room was destroyed, revealing a desk behind the marble wall. Damian walked to the center of the room, watching for any suspicious movement and keeping an eye out for the faint orange glow of the antipersonnel mines.

A hand grabbed his shoulder. Damian turned around and received a blow to the chin. Disoriented, Damian knocked randomly and felt his hand crash into a human face. He struggled with his assailant, stumbling and rolling over the debris and destroyed columns.

The fear of hitting a mine had given way to all the concentration and adrenaline of fighting the mysterious assailant.

In the darkness, Damian couldn't distinguish his attacker, but he was sure of one thing, he was human.

They fought on for a few more moments. Damian took the advantage and pushed his opponent against a wall of sandbags. He drew his pistol and pointed it at his attacker.

"Freeze!"

Damian turned his head towards the voice. From the destroyed wall, a female figure appeared, wearing combat armor and holding a 10mm submachinegun.

Damian saw his opponent slowly rise. With the glow of the brazier, he was able to distinguish the face of his assailant. A woman, a little older than him, slightly matted skin and red hair. She wore khaki combat armor and stared at Damian with a murderous look in her eyes, wiping the blood from her lower lip.

The other woman in the office did not move and continued to point her gun at him.

Footsteps and hoarse voices came from the entrance to the Archives.

"Shit! There's more!" cried the woman in the office.

Damian looked over his shoulder and saw several Super Mutants approaching. He jumped over the sandbags with the red-haired woman and raised his gun to the Super Mutants.

"Wait until they get closer," the redheaded woman said.

Damian grimaced and pulled his finger from the trigger of his gun. Seconds later, the Super Mutants entered the room. One of them stepped on a mine. The explosion tore its legs off and threw him into the air.

When Damian heard the woman with the SMG firing, he raised his gun and fired back. The Super Mutants died quickly, between the mines and the bullets. Silence fell again, quickly broken by guttural screams from the entrance.

"Here comes the second wave," the redhead said.

Damian saw her grab a flamethrower and position it towards the door of the room. A second group of Super Mutant entered, screaming and shooting blindly. The woman in the office attracted their attention, giving the redhead time to aim her weapon.

A long tongue of fire spurted out at the mutants, surrounding them and licking their yellowish skin.

It was all over after a few seconds. The soft sound of the small crackling flames echoed through the room and mixed with the unpleasant smell of burning flesh.

The redhead turned to Damian, still holding her flamethrower. At this distance, Damian was sure she would burn too, but if she decided to use her weapon, Damian would have to be extremely fast.

"I think it's clear," the woman in the office said.

She climbed over the destroyed wall and jumped down, landing at the same level as Damian and the redhead.

With a calm pace, she walked towards them. Damian ventured to take his eyes off the redhead to observe the newcomer.

A little taller than him, she must have been in her mid-thirties and had long brown hair up to her shoulders, dark green combat armor and brown eyes.

She approached the redhead woman and gave her a little smile.

"You're good in a gunfight."

Realizing she was talking to him, Damian turned to her.

"You're not bad either," he replied suspiciously.

"It's part of the job," the young brunette said.

"It's rare indeed to meet people in the center of D.C., at least people who don't try to shoot me on sight."

Damian glanced at the redhead whose steel grey eyes flashed lightning bolts.

"Well," said the young brunette. "Why don't you tell us who you are and what you're doing here?"

* * *

**Well, guess I FINALLY put the Stealing Independence quest in the story, after _"""teasing"""_ it in chapter 6 or 7.**

**I hope you enjoyed the prisoner part. Maybe a bit rushed or short in my opinion but I didn't feel like writing 2 whole chapters about it.**

**In case some of you (like me) like to picture everything in their mind while they read, the raincoat poncho thing that Damian and the Rangers use, is basically a WW2 German poncho with splinter camo. I don't know if it would be possible to find one in the Fallout universe, especially after 200+ years and nuclear war, but I chose it for 2 reasons: I thought it would fit great with the Ranger combat armor and I do actually own one of this and trust me, it's perfect for rainy weather.**

**Regarding the Lee Harvey Oswald reference, I initally planned to make Donovan refer to the man who assassinated Lincoln but, I changed it, mainly because I would assume that people in 2277 would more know about "recent hystory" (saying that 1963 is more recent for them than 1865, even though its like 300 oand 400 year). I also consider that some real life Cold War event happened in the Fallout universe (I think there is a reference to the Vietnam War in Fallout Tactics but I mainly used the mural painting in COncord museum in Fallout 4).**

**As for the last dialogue between Reilly and the Enclave officer, it's a real life dialogue that Robert Surcouf, a French privateer from the late 18th early 19th century had with a British ship captain he captured. Basically, the British captain said that "French only fight for money while British fight for honour" and Surcouf replied "Each fights for what he lacks most." Since I love this line of dialogue, I decided to add it.**

**Until next time.**


	47. Chapter 47: National Treasure

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**To answer Blaze1992 review in last chapter.**

**I initially planned to put the Aqua Cura quest while Damian was at the Washington Monument. I had a nice way of introducing the quest and stuff, but then I realized that I would have to ditch the Stealing Independence quest, as I did not found any other way to introduce it (other than stumbling on it by accident). I also did not want the Rangers to be present, so I took the easy way out and basically killed the ghouls and rejected the Aqua Cura quest. I also realized the place where the ghouls store their water and add the secret ingredient in it, it litteraly right next to the BoS outpost, and knowing the BoS hatred for the ghouls, I can't picture them looking away while a group of ghouls walk next to them. Sure the ghuol might have buy the water, sure they can find a different path from their building to the musuem. The latter is extremely dangerous and given the general ghoulophobia environment in FO3, I don't really see anyone selling, nor redistributing freely, water to ghouls. yes you can make easy money, but why would you give something valuable to something you think should not exist?**

**As for Damian reaction about the whole scene, I guess that he saw so much death that he got used to it.**

**Same for the "cold blood" murder of Enclave personnel and stuff. Sure it's not a very decent behavior and no hero would do that, but for me, Damian is not a hero. I never pictured him like that. For me he is just and ordinary guy put in extraordinary situations. He states several times that he is not a hero, that he helps people because he wants to help them and that he is not looking for fame. He hates the Enclave, as much as the BoS hates Super Mutant or regular FO3 people hate Raiders. He helds them responsible for the death of his father. I don't want to open a debate about Enclave = Bad / BoS= Good or "not all Enclave soldiers are murderers" and stuf, but for me, Damian hates the Enclave more than anything and he has only one goal with them, destroying them.**

**As for romance... Patience, story is not finished yet (and I hope what I have in store will not end up like a cringy cliché teen romantic comedy)**

* * *

"Well, why don't you tell us who you are and what you're doing here?"

The young brunette let her submachinegun hang from her hip by a strap and crossed her arms.

Damian looked at the two women in turn before finally answering.

"My name is Damian. I was on the Mall when I heard gunfire coming from this building and I came to investigate. And you? You must be here to retrieve the historical documents stored here, right?"

The two women exchanged glances.

"What makes you say that?" asked the brunette.

"This building probably doesn't contain any technology that could be of interest. It's obviously been looted many times by scavengers for scrap metal or wood from furniture and it's in the middle of a warzone, so few people would think to venture there. Unless, of course, it's to do a specific job, which would explain your presence here, the traps against the Super Mutants and the small installation behind me."

Damian pointed to a small table behind the sandbags that served as a shelter for the two women. On the table, a terminal was connected to several electrical cables that ran across the floor to a control box installed in the wall.

The brunette smiled and began to laugh silently. The redhead sighed and seemed to whisper the name of _"Abraham Washington"_, the Rivet City collector of historical relics, and a long string of insults.

"Well done," said the brunette. "Good old Abraham Washington hired us both to find the Declaration of Independence, and I suppose he must have made you a similar offer?"

Remembering his meeting with the collector on his first visit to Rivet City, Damian nodded silently.

"Well, three relic hunters meeting each other on the same hunting ground is quite a twist of fate," said the young brunette.

"Actually, that's not why I'm here," Damian replied, holstering his pistol and fetching his assault rifle from among the charred corpses of the Super Mutants.

"Yeah, sure," the brunette chuckled. "You were just walking around D.C. and felt like visiting museums?"

Damian turned to the two women. He could walk away, but the idea of getting his hands on this priceless historical document was too tempting.

"What do you have in mind?" he asked.

"Well, since the three of us are all in pursuit of the same piece of paper and without us you have no chance of getting your hands on it, I propose a partnership to bring the Declaration back to Rivet City."

Damian thought for a moment. His hand slipped unconsciously to the Brotherhood's long-range radio. He still had no news of Tristan and was beginning to fear that something had happened to him. On the other hand, he was pretty sure he would not have to run all the way to the other end of the Capital Wasteland to find the Declaration of Independence and he could drop everything if the Brotherhood ever contacted him.

"Okay, I'm in," said Damian.

"Correct answer," smiled the young brunette.

She walked a little towards the center of the room and pointed to a circular marble slab.

"There's a freight elevator hidden in the floor of the room, right here. From there we will go to the basement and then you just have to follow the tour-guide."

"Before I follow you, I'd like you to tell me more about you and what we're going to find in the basement."

The young brunette raised her eyebrows, visibly surprised by the request.

"It's not often that you find people who are interested in something other than themselves," she said. My name is Sydney, treasure hunter, and this is Emaline, my..."

The young brunette left her sentence hanging, not quite sure how to define her relationship with the redhead.

"Her bodyguard," replied the redhead in a slightly aggressive tone.

"That's it," Sydney smiled. "We're treasure hunters looking out for each other."

Damian looked at Emaline. The latter looked at him again and then walked away towards the entrance of the museum.

"So, you've studied the museum plans?" Damian asked.

"That's right," Sydney answered. "Believe it or not, but the basement of this building is a maze. And as for what you were asking about what we might come across down there, I'm not sure what to answer. Any person would tell you there is a standard RobCo security system. Protectron and laser turrets and stuff, but given the fact that this is one of D.C.'s premier museums, I think we can expect a higher level of security, perhaps even military hardware."

"If that's the case, I don't think we're going to be able to get through with small arms."

Damian pointed to his assault rifle and the young brunette's weapon. The young woman smiled and grabbed her SMG. She unfolded the stock, untied the straps and gave it to Damian, under Emaline's suspicious eye.

The weapon was much lighter than he thought, and its design was slightly different from other 10mm submachineguns. Damian noticed that the young woman had engraved the word _"Ultra"_ on the barrel.

"I always keep it under my pillow," Sydney smiled. "Usually, I load it with standard 10mm rounds, but now I use special ammunition, made by myself. It's effective against the armor plating of most robots, but in extreme cases, Emaline takes the wheel."

The redhead approached the table where Sydney's terminal was located. Under the table, she grabbed a khaki duffel bag and pulled out a minigun. Damian noted that the gun had a shortened barrel.

"Nothing like 5mm AP rounds to get rid of a Sentry bot and shred some muties."

Damian waited for the two women to finish equipping themselves by watching the entrance of the museum, listening for Super Mutant footsteps. Emaline re-installed several traps and mines near the entrance before returning to the center of the room. She waved at Sydney, who was standing behind her computer. The young brunette quickly typed on the keyboard.

A small whistle was heard, and the center slab of the marble floor slowly rose, revealing an elevator shaft big enough to fit four or five people.

Damian and the two relic hunters entered the elevator and descended to the basement.

Seconds later, the elevator shaft came to a standstill, revealing a large concrete room supported by four metal pillars.

To his surprise, Damian saw Sydney and Emaline scatter around the room and point their weapons at the door in front of the elevator.

Damian got off the elevator and approached the door. Immediately he heard the speakers in the room crackle and a voice coming out.

_"Gentlemen, today I am sending you a message of extreme urgency. Our defenses have been breached and we will soon engage the enemy. Remember, the will of the people is the only legitimate basis for a regime. I, Button Gwinnett, your leader, representative of Georgia, assure you that I have not begun to fight."_

"What's this non-sense?" Emaline asked, staring at the speakers and frowning.

"No idea," Sydney said, shrugging. "But it looks like we're going to have a welcoming committee."

The voice, that of a man, spoke with assurance and authority, urging men to fight against intruders, and a speech full of references to freedom, democracy and independence.

Sydney unlocked the door and they arrived in front of a staircase leading to a small room, lit by light coming out of an air vent.

As Damian followed the two women and listened to the voice that continued to make its warrior speech straight from another age, he found that everything was getting stranger and stranger.

The fact that people were able to take up residence in the basement of the museum after the Great War was quite possible. What Damian found strange was that if people lived here and considered him and the two young women as intruders, then why make an announcement on the museum's speakers and risk drawing the intruders' attention instead of ambushing them?

Another disturbing point was that the voice said its name was Button Gwinnett and posed as a representative of the State of Georgia. Damian was convinced that Button Gwinnett was one of the signatories of the Declaration of Independence in 1776. It was one thing for someone to take the name of this famous historical figure, but it was quite another to act like him.

Convinced that his questions would be answered sooner or later, Damian turned his attention to the basement.

The maintenance rooms and corridors seemed endless. Sydney looked at an old building plan for a long time and pointed the way forward. Up to now, they had only come across rusty Robotbrain or weathered Protectrons.

Sydney led the way, followed by Damian. The idea that she might lead him into a trap or that Emaline might shoot him in the back occupied a small part of his mind, but for the time being he was concentrating on their progress through the basement and on the different robots they passed.

They arrived near a small room, which Sydney pointed out as the generator room powering the security turrets. The room was guarded by a Sentry bot. Damian let Emaline pass in front of him and watched the redheaded girl turn the machine into a steaming pile of scrap metal.

After destroying the generators with a grenade, they resumed their advance, walking past storage or maintenance rooms.

As they explored the place, they came across several safes with digital locks that could not be opened. Sydney tried to hack the lock with a small portable device that looked strangely like alien or Enclave technology, but the young woman quickly gave up. These chests probably contained historical documents in reserve for the Archives, but to clutter up the chests to open them later was impossible. The contents of the chests would remain in the basements until another group of adventurers or scavengers managed to open them.

Messages on the loudspeakers were becoming increasingly rare and as they progressed, Damian noted that the robots were fewer in number and for the most part all disabled or out of order. He also noticed human remains next to homemade firearms or laser guns, a sign that others before them had tried to take over the museum's historical treasures.

"Here it is."

Damian and the two treasure hunters were standing in front of yet another metal door. This one was different from the others. There was a small sign next to it that said _"Vault"_.

"Okay, let's go."

Sydney unlocked the door and they rushed inside and stumbled upon something unexpected.

Instead of a vault where rows of safes had to be piled up, they found themselves in a large office, furnished with an arched table in the center of the room and small shelves or drawers along the walls.

At the back of the room, a door and a security wall protected a row of small safes with electronic padlocks.

Standing behind the desk, a Protectron robot faced Damian and the two young women, and laser turrets occupied the corners of the room and seemed to be always active, slowly following their movements as they moved through the office.

The Protectron had partially peeling blue and yellow paint on its body, claws and feet and wore a white wig on the glass dome housing its sensors.

Without giving the three humans time to speak, the machine addressed them in the same voice they had heard in the museum's speakers.

_"So, you were able to penetrate our defenses, kill my best soldiers, and invade my home! But I, Button Gwinnett, have not said my last word and have not yet begun to fight! You will never steal our freedom!"_

"What the hell?" Sydney mumbled with a raised eyebrow.

Regardless of the young woman's remark, the robot continued talking as if nothing had happened.

_"The Declaration will remain here as the symbol shouting to the face of the globe, 'We are a free country!'."_

Emaline raised her minigun but stopped when she heard the laser turrets pointing at her.

"Are you Button Gwinnett?" asked Damian. "The second signatory of the Declaration of Independence?"

Still, motionless, the Protectron began to speak with a satisfied tone, in places of the mechanical and jerky voice of its fellow machines.

_"Oh, I see my reputation has preceded me. Very well. Then you know that I am not to be mocked with impunity! I am ready to challenge you to a duel! What do you choose? Swords? Pistols?"_

"It's... Very noble of you to... To risk your life for a document...," said Damian, who was careful to choose his words.

_"'A document?'"_ the robot barked. _"The Declaration is the doctrine enunciated by my colleagues of the Second Continental Congress, which delivers us from the tyranny of King George III!"_

Damian met the lost glances of Sydney and Emaline who did not understand a word the Protectron was saying. The robot had been programmed to play the role of Gwinnett and was now mistaking Damian and the two women for British soldiers, the same ones who had fought in the United States War of Independence in 1776.

"Uh...," Damian said. "Are you aware that was over 500 years ago?"

The Protectron came suddenly towards the office and startled the three humans.

_"I will not be fooled by the lies and deceit of the crown of England,"_ he said. _"But if you wish to settle this matter without bloodshed, may I suggest that you present me with your unconditional surrender?"_

Damian exchanged glances with Sydney and Emaline. At the slightest movement, all three of them would be turned to ashes by the laser turrets. Damian then had an idea. He thought about how he had solved the water problem at Megaton. He walked slowly, seeing the turrets following him out of the corner of his eye, and he stopped just in front of the office. He took a deep breath and after carefully choosing his words, he addressed the machine.

"I am Thomas Jefferson, I'm here to release the Declaration, by order of Georges Washington."

He heard Sydney approaching him.

"What are you doing?" she whispered nervously.

Damian didn't have time to respond that the Protectron hiccupped in surprise and uttered a crude military salute.

_"By all Saints! It's an honor and a privilege, Sir! Please forgive my rudeness! I didn't recognize you!"_

Damian remained silent, surprised that the ruse could have fooled the machine.

_"I've been waiting for this day for so long! I hope you have been satisfied with our fortifications and that our troops are living up to your expectations. They are waiting for your order to retake the capital."_

"I can't believe this is working," Emaline whispered, giddy-eyed.

The Protectron bowed slightly and after a brief silence, resumed a more suspicious tone.

_"May I ask who these two young women are with you and where you intend to take the Declaration?"_

Damian cleared his throat, giving himself a few more seconds to remember his History lessons and prepare his response.

"These two young women are distinguished Ladies from the Kingdom of France, who have come to help us in our fight against England and help us gain our Independence. You owe them respect and must answer their requests as if they were from me."

The Protectron moved slowly towards Sydney and bowed to her.

_"Mes respects, Madame. C'est avec un immense honneur que je vous souhaite la bienvenue dans ma noble demeure, et vous présente tout mes remerciement pour l'aide de votre nation face à la tyrannie britannique," said the robot while holding out its claw to Sydney._

The young woman, looked at Damian and Emaline. Both shrugged. None of them had understood what the Protectron had said, also Damian assumed it was French. Sydney hesitated for a brief moment and reached out her hand. She grimaced as the robot took her hand in its cold metal claw and mimed a hand kiss.

Emaline let out a small laugh, quickly choked when she realized that the robot was going to do the same thing to her. Damian saved her the trouble by turning to the Protectron.

"I intend to take the Declaration to the headquarters of the authority to..."

_"So the Parliament is still standing?"_ cried the robot who was about to grab the redheaded girl's hand. _"God bless the Star-Spangled Banner! What about the war? Have we won? Did we beat the British back?"_

"Yeah. It's over."

The machine breathed a long sigh of relief and headed for the safety door at the back of the room. The safety door unlocked automatically, and the robot opened one of the chests. It returned a few seconds later, holding a black leather tube between its claws.

The Protectron gently gave the tube to Damian. He took out a document, carefully he unrolled it as slowly as possible. He felt Sydney and Emaline standing behind him and looking at him with bright eyes as he revealed the contents of the paper that had turned yellow over the years.

As soon as he read the first line, Damian knew he had the Declaration of Independence in his hands. A broad smile appeared on his face. He, who had always been fascinated by History, held one of its most important relics in his hands.

_"What are my last orders?"_ asked the robot.

"_You can do what you want,"_ Emaline said, looking at the document and already thinking of the caps reward promised by Washington.

Damian looked up at the Protectron and the laser turrets but was relieved when he saw the robot give him a military salute and go into standby mode and heard the turrets deactivate.

"A priceless piece of history," he said as he put the document back in the tube and closed the lid.

"Yeah, yeah," said Sydney. "How about we go get paid?"

About an hour later, the trio had reached Rivet City. They had left the basements of the Archives by taking an elevator at the end of a long corridor containing several maintenance stations for Protectrons, all wearing white wigs and bearing the name of one of the signatories of the Declaration of Independence.

Inside the Archives, they had to fight against a small group of Super Mutants and quickly eliminated them, thanks to the tremendous firepower of Emaline's minigun.

When they gave the Declaration to Abraham Washington, he almost burst into tears. He had unfolded the document with little hiccups and looked like a child opening his Christmas presents. He was so happy to finally be able to hold the centerpiece of his museum in his hands that he had just given Sydney a bag of caps, without bothering to count them.

Damian had watched Washington put the document in a frame and look at it from every angle.

He felt a pat on the shoulder. He turned around to see Sydney hand him a small purse.

"Your share," she said with a smile. "Go ahead, you can count it."

"I trust you," Damian replied with a smile and tucked the purse away.

"Pretty good for a first partnership," said the young woman.

"I have to admit that I'm pretty good at finding lost or hidden stuff," smiled Damian.

They left the museum, followed by Emaline. They found themselves on one of the ship's exterior walkways overlooking the ruins South of Washington, D.C., and Sydney grabbed a bottle of booze from her travel bag and uncorked it.

"To our good fortune," she exclaimed before taking a big sip.

She passed the bottle to Emaline, who in turn drank, and then gave the bottle to Damian. Damian looked at the bottle with a strange look and took a sip. He couldn't hold back a cough.

"Damn it! What the hell's that thing?"

Sydney laughed and grabbed the bottle. She took a second sip and spun the bottle again. Damian declined politely. He looked out at the river and the destroyed buildings in the distance. He wondered what he would do when the Enclave was no longer a threat. Perhaps when he returned to the Vault, he could go with Amata to a peaceful place far from the Capital Wasteland. Maybe they could find a place spared by the bombs or radiation and live there.

A crackling sound attracted his attention. Paladin Tristan's voice crackled in the Brotherhood radio. Damian quickly grabbed the device and, answered.

"Tristan? Is that you?"

"_Affirmative. Your orders are to proceed to the Citadel immediately. I'll give you the details on the spot. Lyons' Pirde actual over and out."_

Damian put the radio away and turned to the two women.

"I also thought it was you," said Emaline. "There aren't many young guys with a Pip-Boy are friends with the Brotherhood and wearing a Ranger armor."

Sydney laughed.

"The legend himself went relic hunting into the ruins with us. What an honor."

Damian groaned and sighed. The young brunette gave him a charming smile.

"Well, I think it's time to part ways," Sydney said. "If you want to work with the two hottest treasure hunters of the Wasteland again, come on down to Underworld."

Damian nodded and began heading towards the door leading inside the ship.

"Come on, my Little Moonbeam," said Emaline whose head was beginning to get drunk. We're going to eat."

Damian froze. He turned towards the two women.

"What did you say?"

"What?" replied the redhead.

"You said something about the Moon."

"Oh, _'Little Moonbeam'_," Sydney replied. It's just a silly nickname my father gave me when I was a kid. Emaline is the only one who has the right to call me that, even if I don't like it."

"Why?" Damian dared to ask.

The young brunette hesitated for a few seconds before shrugging.

"My father taught me everything about firearms, and that's how I was able to get my SMG up from A to Z. But the day I turned 14, he left. He abandoned me overnight. I guess I don't need to tell you how hard it is to live alone for a girl that age."

She shrugged again and grabbed the bottle Emaline was handing her.

"I don't know where he went, and I don't care. I just hope the bastard got what he deserved, that's all."

Damian remained silent. He rummaged through his bag and grabbed the little box where he kept all the holotapes of his father or those he had found in the Wastes. He quickly sorted them out and gave one to Sydney.

The young woman grabbed the holotape and twisted it between her fingers. Her gaze fell upon the small, damaged tag. She frowned and opened her mouth slightly and then slowly shook her head.

She reached down to the bag at her feet and searched inside for a small tape deck. She inserted the tape inside.

A man's voice came from the device. Immediately after hearing it, Sydney put a hand over her mouth and hiccupped. Her eyes filled with tears as the voice spoke.

The man in the tape seemed hurt and was addressing a little girl, calling her _"my Little Moonbeam"_. When he said Sydney's name, the young woman burst into tears.

The tape ended. Sydney cried silently. Emaline approached her and gently hugged her. The young brunette hugged the tape recorder against her. She raised her head towards Damian and wiped her face.

"Where... where did you find it?"

"In the ruins of D.C... I... I found completely by accident, and it was when you said _'Moonbeam'_ that I remembered I had it."

Sydney listened silently as Damian told her how he found the holotape. When his story ended and he didn't know what else to say, Damian remained silent and gave Sydney the time she needed to come to her senses and take the news.

"Thank you," said the young woman. "Thank you for giving me this holotape."

She untied the strap from her submachinegun and handed it to Damian.

"I'd like you to take my gun, as a thank you."

"No, I can't accept," Damian said.

Sydney insisted again, but Damian again declined. The young woman thanked him again several times.

"I have to go," Damian said, putting the box back in his bag. "Maybe I'll see you another time."

He shook hands with Sydney and Emaline and left the bridge and headed for the Citadel.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**I don't know if real life Button Gwinnett spoke French, nor if the Protectron can (maybe, in case of tourists coming to visit the museum before the Great War), but I could not resist putting something in French.**

**Here is the translation "My respects, Madam. It is with great honour that I welcome you to my noble home, and I thank you for your nation's help in the face of British tyranny."**

**Until next time.**


	48. Chapter 48: Pet

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Regarding the review for last chapter. The Rivet City security is not a military organization and I don't see them manning outposts in the Wastes to backup the BoS. Besides, they are less numerous than the BoS and are already streched between their duties as security of Rivet City and some of the purifier caravans.**

**As for the Rangers, there's only 4 of them (5 with Damian), and I don't think that replacing 4 men to an outpost would change many things, as they would better fit in a recon or small Ops team. (Again, I have no military experience in any form, so if some of you have, feel free to correct me or give your opinion)**

**That being said, enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

The inner courtyard of the Citadel was obstructed by debris from Liberty Prime. Nearly all the scribes were working around the pieces of the giant robot.

Damian asked one of the soldiers on guard where Tristan was and was told that the Paladin was somewhere in the A-Wing of the fortress.

Damian found Tristan in one of the corridors of the building, in great discussion with Fawkes and a young scribe who was using a cane to walk. Damian recognized Alice Hood, the young scribe with whom he had tried to break into Vault 87 before she was injured by a Super Mutant.

"There you are, perfect," said Tristan as he saw the young man.

"Yes. Scribe Hood, glad to see you're feeling better," Damian smiled.

Hood smiled back at him and Tristan cleared his throat to make them focus on the discussion. Hood quickly apologized and tightened her grip around the file she had in her hands.

"Is that the data we brought from the relay station?" Damian asked. "You managed to decipher everything?"

"No," Hood said. "Well, not all of it. We discovered some are telemetry data, the kind used with satellites, but that wasn't very surprising, considering the place you found them."

"What does that mean? That the Enclave has a pre-war satellite in Space orbiting the Earth and that they used it to level the station?"

"We came to same conclusion," Tristan said with a concerned look on his face. "But I asked you to come for something else."

He nodded to the young scribe to invite her to continue. After a nervous glance at Fawkes, Hood again pointed to the file in her hand.

"The officer you and the Rangers took prisoner was very helpful," the young woman explained. "He told us about an experimental device, a Tesla coil. Apparently, a team of pre-war scientists had tried to reproduce the coil invented by Nikola Tesla and improve the mechanism of propagation of electricity."

"Do you believe him?" Damian asked.

"Well, yes. Among the documents and computer files that the Paladin and his team brought back, there were notes about this Tesla coil. I doubt the Enclave would have make up something this big. It doesn't look like a false lead or trap set up for us."

While Hood was talking, she was giving Fawkes nervous glances. Feeling the young scribe's discomfort, the Super Mutant took a few steps away and stopped in front of an old poster, probably there since the Great War. The young woman let out a little sigh of relief and opened her file and presented it to Damian.

Inside were transcripts of notes and a diagram of a circular object resembling a small gear.

"So, you want me to find that Tesla Coil?" Damian asked.

"Exactly," Tristan answered. "With the destruction of Prime, we've lost our only tactical advantage against their Vertibirds and Lyons fears that all the ground gained in the last two weeks will be taken back by the enemy if we have nothing to counter their air support."

"Well, I'm okay for it, but how is this coil going to help us destroy a Vertibird?" Damian asked puzzled.

A small grin appeared on Tristan's face.

"Our scribes have been working on a weapon capable of shooting down the Enclave's aircrafts for a little while now. Something more efficient than a rocket launcher or a heavy machinegun. This Tesla coil is the missing piece to complete the weapon. I'd give anything to see the faces on their pilots when they get shot with that weapon."

"Given that the officer we captured knew about it, chances are the Enclave will prevent us from getting our hands on the coil," says Damian.

"Correct," nodded the Paladin. "That's why you have to act quickly. There is one slight problem, however."

"What is it?" Damian asked.

"Neither the officer nor the documents we have in our possession clearly indicate where the device is. All we know is that it would be in Old Olney."

An awkward silence fell. Damian watched the grim look of the Paladin and the young scribe.

"What?" he asked, knowing already that he would hate the answer.

"You don't know?" Hood asked. Old Olney is one of the worst places in the Capital Wasteland. It's a Deathclaw nest."

Seeing Damian's incomprehensive look, Hood hastened to give him a brief description of a Deathclaw. Damian immediately recognized the reptilian creatures he had encountered inside Raven Rock.

"So, let me get this straight," Damian said, massaging his temples. "I'm going to have to go into the nest of these creatures to find something that may not be there."

"Yes," Tristan replied simply.

"The Enclave kept several of these Deathclaws in their base, I've seen what one of those monsters can do to a power armor.

"Yes, we know," Hood sighed. "One of our patrol found a squad of Enclave troops, accompanied by one of these monsters. It's seems that they were trying to tame it with a mind control device."

"Perfect," Damian mumbled.

"I won't lie to you, this is a dangerous mission," Tristan said. "But you're the only person available to do it."

"Wait, you mean that I won't have any backup?"

"You can count on me, my friend."

Damian turned toward Fawkes. The Super Mutant seemed ready to follow him everywhere, despite the danger.

"Thank you, Fawkes, but just the two of us against a pack of these creatures, it's suicide. Can't anyone else come?"

"Unfortunately, no," sighed Tristan. "All our troops are currently deployed or engaged all around the Capital Wasteland or the ruins. The Pride has been assigned as a QRF for our different outposts in the ruins. I'm afraid I can't spare anyone to help you on this one."

"Uh… What about your friends, from the Rangers?" shyly asked Hood.

"Impossible," answered Tristan. "They are already assigned to something else. Enclave patrols have been spotted near Takoma, and they have been tasked to investigate. Sorry, but you'll be on your own."

Damian felt trapped. If he refused, he and the Brotherhood would only have to wait for the Enclave to regain the upper hand, and everything they'd accomplished so far would have been in vain. He sighed before nodding.

"Do you have any idea how we can sneak into the nest of these abominations without getting torn to pieces?"

"I think you might want to talk to Scribe Vallincourt," Tristan said after a brief moment of reflection. "She's in charge of studying the Enclave tech we've recovered since Project Purity. She should be able to help you. She also spent some time studying the local fauna on her free time, so she might be able to tell you a little more."

"Where do I find her?" Damian asked.

"I can take you to her," answered Hood. "I've got to see one of her scribes anyway."

"All right," said Tristan. "I have to go and oversee current operations. As soon as you get the coil, come back immediately. Good luck, and, stay safe, both of you."

The Paladin walked away and disappeared in one of the corridors.

"Come, I'll take you to Scribe Vallincourt."

Damian followed the young scribe. She threw little nervous glances over her shoulder towards Fawkes. Damian suspected that after being shot by a Super Mutant, Hood must have felt terribly uncomfortable being in the presence of one of them. He could not really blame her. He, too, had had a hard time adjusting to the mutant's presence behind his back when Fawkes had started to follow him after his escape from Raven Rock.

"When do you think the data will be fully deciphered?" Damian asked.

"Not before two or three days, I'm afraid," sighed Hood. "Just the fact that we were able to determine that it was telemetry data is a good start, but with the mass of files we still have to analyze, it could take us a long time."

"I see."

"I heard you've been promoted and that you are one of us, now. Congrats and welcome aboard, Knight."

"It's just honorary membership, so no need to be all formal and stuff."

"Well, in that case, I'm happy to see you back and awake, it gives us hope regarding the Sentinel."

"Is she still in a coma."

"Yes," replied sadly Hood.

"Let's just hope that she won't stay like this any longer."

They found Scribe Vallincourt, a short brown-haired woman in a red scribe's robe, in the Citadel's laboratory. Reading of a paper, she didn't see Hood and Damian standing in front of her.

"Scribe Vallincourt… There… There is someone who wish to talk to you."

"Scribe Hood," hissed the woman. "I'm very busy. Can't it wait?"

"No," Damian answered. "I need your help to get into Old Olney without getting shredded by a Deathclaw."

The scribe put down her pen and looked up at Damian. She looked at him for a few seconds before getting up and waving at him to follow her.

"Good luck," Hood whispered with a small smile.

Damian smiled back at her and joined Vallincourt who had stopped a little further on in front of a table with a pile of objects and devices.

"There is perhaps, emphasize on _'perhaps'_, a way to help you," said Vallincourt in a kind tone that strongly denoted her previous attitude.

"Any help is good to take."

Vallincourt grabbed a small remote control and gave it to Damian. Similar to the remote control used to scroll through the slides on Mr. Brotch's projector, Damian looked at the device from every angle before giving the scribe an interrogative look.

"I assume you are aware that the Enclave is able to control certain specimens of Deathclaws. To do this, a special helmet is placed over the creature's skull and connected to a terminal and antenna that emits waves that directly affect the creature's brain. In simple terms, this is like giving them orders by means of electromagnetic impulses. It is not as simple as shouting _"Sit"_ or _"Down"_, but it is less risky."

The image of a group of Deathclaw being trained as dogs for a competition crossed Damian's mind and he had to control himself from smiling at the thought.

"How does it work?"

"Don't be offended but it would take far too long to explain. All you have to do is make sure that the remote control is constantly on and that as long as you are within range of the signal emitted by the Enclave, the Deathclaw will follow yours instead of the one sent by the enemy.

"So I'll be able to control the Deathclaw?"

"Yes... And no..."

Vallincourt pursed her lips before continuing.

"This device has never been tested, so I can't be categorical. To answer your question more precisely, it is likely that your signal simply cancels out the Enclave's signal and the Deathclaw simply acts as he would naturally. In any case, you will have to remain extremely vigilant."

Damian remembered how easily the Deathclaw killed the Enclave soldiers as he fled from Raven Rock. He let Vallincourt activate the remote control and stowed it in the pocket of his fatigues.

"One more thing," said the scribe. "There's a reported Enclave camp a little Southeast of Old Olney, if you ever want to give it a try. Oh, and if you ever get too far away, there could be side effects. For the Deathclaw, I mean."

"I have one more question. If the Enclave doesn't control the Deathclaw in the city, do you have any idea how I can get in?"

"You mean without shelling the whole neighborhood with white phosphorus? Well, I know the Deathclaw are day hunters, so you could try a dawn approach when the adults are gone. Keep in mind that the nest will most likely be guarded by several other members of the pack and the young are just as dangerous as the adults."

"Thank you for your help."

Damian walked away towards the exit of the lab, Fawkes on his heels. He stopped and watched the Super Mutant for a moment.

"Something on your mind?" the mutant asked.

"Fawkes, do you have a problem changing weapons for the duration of the mission?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"I think a flamethrower would be a good idea, considering where we're going."

The Super Mutant scratched his head, thinking for a few seconds. The best imitation of a smile appeared on his face.

"Oh, I see. I see. Since these Deathclaw are animals, you'd think the fire would scare them off. That's clever."

"It's just a guess," Damian replied. "Let's say that in front of a pack of these creatures it might prove useful."

"Very well," nodded the Super Mutant.

They made their way to the armory. The young initiate in charge of the place gave Damian a broad smile, before diving behind the counter where she was standing, hiccupping with surprise and terror when she saw Fawkes trapped in the doorway.

With the flamethrower in their possession, along with a spare rifle for Fawkes and a flashlight more powerful than his Pip-Boy's, Damian and the Super Mutant left the Citadel.

The road to Olney passed through the ruins of Bethesda where Damian met the Regulators and ran into Donovan on his way to Minefield and was later abducted by the aliens.

Damian looked up to the sky. Somewhere above him, thousands of miles away, the crew of the alien ship must have been keeping an eye on him. Damian had once thought of using the ship's firepower to destroy the Enclave, but he had quickly rejected the idea, believing that the existence of an alien ship in orbit above the Earth should remain a secret. He had also thought about using the Death Ray to destroy the Enclave satellite but giving the fact that there probably were thousands of broken and old pre-war satellites orbiting the Earth, it would end in a wild-goose chase.

Night would soon fall. They passed the scrapyard where Damian and Sarah had found Dogmeat, and the young man couldn't help but think of his canine companion.

They walked in the shade of one of the many elevated highways that dotted the landscape of the Wasteland. Damian spotted a large, partially destroyed building.

"We're going to spend the night here," he said, turning to Fawkes. "According to the map, we shouldn't be too far from Old Olney after that."

The Super Mutant nodded silently and followed the young man. They went down the hill and arrived in front of the ruined building.

Damian approached cautiously. The place seemed to have been occupied recently, judging by the junk barricades. The young man observed the destroyed windows and slowly pushed the door open.

The interior looked like all the ruined buildings of the Wasteland, with one exception. The hung corpses that were rotting inside.

Damian and Fawkes inspected the interior of the building with its collapsed ceiling. The former occupants must have been runaway slaves, as Damian understood it. The bodies showed signs of mutilation and one of them, a tall, colored man, had a sign around his neck that read, _"I have defied my master and deserve death!"_.

Damian also found the remains of the head of a broken and painted statue of Abraham Washington. How it could have ended up here, when the rest was in the Lincoln Memorial, on the Mall, was a mystery.

Fawkes paused for a moment before the corpses. Damian glanced out the window. There was still enough light. With his knife he reached one of the ropes holding the corpse and sliced it with a sharp blow.

An hour later he and Fawkes had buried the bodies and returned to the building and settled in a small room that had been spared by destruction. The Super Mutant approached the window, blocked by several wooden boards, and began to observe the outside.

"You can rest," he told Damian. "We meta-humans don't need as much sleep as you do."

Damian thanked him with a nod and laid down on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed in the room. He put his head on his bag and started thinking about what to expect in the morning.

He began to think about the weapon that the Enclave had in orbit around the Earth. Such a weapon could easily annihilate the Citadel and all the Brotherhood troops inside. Then the Enclave would simply crush the small pockets of resistance of disorganized Paladins and Knights that remained in the Wasteland and be done with it.

On the other side, the walls of the Citadel had withstood the Great War, and it was possible that they could withstand an orbital strike as well, just as the Enclave could refuse to use such an expensive weapon. It was quite possible that they now had only one satellite capable of launching missiles from space and that they preferred to keep it in reserve, just as they could bluff and make the Brotherhood believe that they had a weapon capable of vaporizing them in an instant.

Damian slowly opened his eyes. He looked at the clock on his Pip-Boy, which read about 7am. He straightened up and stretched before he glanced out the window. Fawkes was sitting on an old wooden chair that was threatening to break under his weight, and was still looking out the window at the Wasteland.

"Good morning, my friend," said the Super Mutant.

Damian answered in a yawn and got up from bed. He approached the window and looked out between two planks. It was still dark outside but could still see the surroundings and the ruined highways.

"Anything to report that night?"

The Super Mutant shook his head. Damian looked at his Pip-Boy's map. They weren't too far from Old Olney.

"Let's go," he said as he grabbed his gear.

Fawkes nodded and they left the building. They walked for a few minutes under of the crumbling highway. In the distance Damian could see the sharp shapes of destroyed buildings, standing out in the night sky.

Suddenly, Fawkes put his hand against Damian's chest, preventing him from moving forward. Waving to him to keep quiet, he pointed a direction in front of them.

Set up on a hill and sheltered near a highway interchange, an Enclave camp. If Fawkes hadn't noticed it, Damian would have walked by without seeing it.

Little Eyebot flew slowly around the camp and Damian finally managed to distinguish the massive silhouettes of the soldiers in power armor. They were standing in front of a large cage, similar to the one Damian had seen at Raven Rock.

The cage was closed and one of the soldiers was standing on it, holding a strange device in his hands that looked like a helmet.

An angry, animal-like roar came from the cage and Damian could see the soldiers jumping or retreating.

A second soldier climbed onto the cage, holding in his hands a large metal bar with a collar at the end. He opened a trap door in the cage and slid the snare into it. Immediately afterwards, Damian saw him struggle not to let go of the metal bar or be ejected to the ground. After a few seconds, the soldier, holding the helmet, put his hands into the cage.

Damian heard him shouting and a little further on, an officer standing in front of a table and a computer, frantically typed on the keyboard.

The roars of rage emanating from the cage ceased, just as an antenna in the Enclave camp lit up.

The soldiers were moving away from the cage. After a few seconds, the officer pressed another button and the cage doors opened.

Slowly, two clawed hands grasped the edges of the cage. A huge mass came out from inside. The creature looked around and roared so loudly that Damian felt his rib cage vibrate.

The silhouette of the creature stood out in the night sky, like a pre-war horror movie shot. Fawkes aimed his rifle, but Damian put his hand on the barrel.

"I'd like to check something first," he said.

The Super Mutant put the gun down without hesitation. Damian resumed his observation of the scene unfolding before his eyes.

The Deathclaw sniffed the air and swung its head in several directions. Damian saw the Enclave officer typing on the terminal keyboard. The creature slowly approached the group of Enclave soldiers who were holding their energy weapons firmly. The officer typed a new command and the animal stopped.

"We need to check if Vallincourt's device is working properly," Damian said.

"Be careful," the Super Mutant replied.

Damian stepped over the piece of concrete behind which he had taken shelter and began to approach the camp.

He stopped behind the pillar of the highway and glanced at the soldiers and the Deathclaw. The creature stood motionless, its head bent forward, and his arms folded on its chest.

Damian aimed his rifle and shot one of the soldiers who fell to the ground. Immediately, his comrades dove for cover and the officer stooped behind his computer. The Deathclaw did not move. Damian fired again. The Eyebot patrolling around the camp spotted him and fired a laser beam that ended in the concrete pillar.

Damian heard the officer tell his soldiers not to fire. A few seconds later, Damian heard the Deathclaw roar and its heavy footsteps echoed and got closer and closer.

He took a discreet glance behind the pillar and saw the Deathclaw running toward him and felt that his heart skipped a beat.

The animal was only three meters away from him. Damian raised his rifle, when the creature suddenly stopped. Despite the very dim light, the young man could clearly see that the creature looked strange and confused. It began to hold its head.

After a few seconds, the Deathclaw grunted and turned around, before rushing towards the Enclave soldiers, who all turned towards their commander.

The officer typed frantically on the keyboard and cast nervous, puzzled glances at the creature.

He realized that the Deathclaw was no longer responding to the signal from his terminal when the creature fell on one of the soldiers and bit his head off with its jaw.

The creature pulverized the Eyebot with its tail and began to attack the remaining soldiers. Damian watched the carnage the monster left in its wake.

After it had killed all the soldiers, the Deathclaw returned to Damian, slowly. It stood still and looked at the young man, as if it was waiting for something.

Damian backed away slowly and saw that the creature was following him. He calculated how many meters separated him from the Enclave's signal transmitter and walked away again, still keeping an eye on the Deathclaw.

After about twenty meters, the Deathclaw stopped. It roared horribly and began to hit and scratch its head. Damian was startled when the creature's head disappeared into a red cloud.

Behind him he heard Fawkes coming. The Super Mutant watched the dead creature.

"This is terrifying technology," he commented.

Damian nodded silently. To control the mind of a creature as dangerous as the Deathclaw was an absolutely terrifying thing. A pack of these man-led creatures on a battlefield would mean a terrifying hunt.

They searched the Enclave's camp. All they found was some ammunition for energy weapons, supplies for a few days, and notes on the officer's terminal.

Damian wiped the blood off the computer screen and began to read the various reports. This team was soon to be relieved and tasked with capturing specimens of Deathclaw and then testing their mind control device on anyone who passed by.

Unfortunately, there was no note as to where the creatures were to be sent, and there was no mention of a name that would tell Damian where the base of the Enclave was located.

The young man and the Super Mutant went on their way again. The sun slowly rose and began to warm the Wasteland.

Old Olney was built on a hill, and from what Damian could see, the town had been used as a stronghold by people, before it finally became the nest of the Deathclaws.

There were almost no sounds. Only the footsteps of Damian and Fawkes walking towards the town and the slight whistling of the wind were audible.

Damian entered the town through a collapsed building. The main street was deserted. To his right was a former fire station, surmounted by a small bell tower, and to his left were various shops and apartments. He approached the fire station and found a small information board in front of the door. The main places in the town were listed. He had presumed that a Tesla Coil would be developed in a laboratory or inside a power station, there was no information on the board for both places. Damian decided to enter the fire station and climb to the top.

He entered through the garage door, wide open, and passed by the fire engine, which was nothing but a giant rusty wreck. After searching for a few minutes, he came across the staircase leading to the small bell tower.

From there he had a good view of the city. Damian looked for a large building that could serve as a power station. The only building that could house such a thing was a large white stone building in the northern part of the city.

"I don't see an entrance," he said.

"It's likely that what we're looking for is buried underground," commented Fawkes.

Damian thought about what the Super Mutant had just said. If it did, he had to find a sewer or an underground passage.

The town did not have any metro station and Damian scanned the street below for a manhole.

He heard a growl, coming from further inside the city. Damian stooped down and saw a few seconds later a group of three Deathclaws coming out of a building. The creatures sniffed the air and made their slow march to the Wasteland.

They were joined by several others of their own size and color. Damian waited patiently for the pack of abominations to leave.

Damian straightened up and after making sure that the city was deserted, he started looking for a manhole cover again. He glanced at Fawkes. He had not foreseen that the only access to the power station would be through an underground passage or a sewer.

He sighed and left the barracks and went back to the street. After a few yards he and Fawkes stumbled across a trail of blood. As Damian followed it, he saw that it led to a small alley.

Damian came to the corner of the alley and saw that the blood trail ended at a manhole. The entrance to the sewer was surrounded by pieces of meat and human corpses of various ages.

Fawkes approached the manhole. What Damian feared was finally going to happen. The manhole was clearly too narrow for the Super Mutant. Fawkes had figured that out, too. He turned to Damian and began to remove the back tank from his flamethrower.

"I think you're going to have to go on alone, my friend. Be careful down there."

The Super Mutant handed him the flamethrower. Damian had never used such a weapon before, except in a science class in the Vault, where he had mistakenly dosed a chemical experiment and almost burned the classroom to the ground. He still remembered the angry speech of the Overseer and the hours spent cleaning the burn marks on the walls, or the peculiar smell that had engulfed the room.

The flamethrower was a simple model, different from the one the Brotherhood usually used. It was closer to the models that the US Army or Marines used in World War II.

Fawkes lifted up the manhole cover and Damian took a look inside. A rancid odor rose from the opening, a mixture of mold, rotting flesh and feces.

Damian grabbed the flashlight from his bag and lit the hole. A ladder descended about five meters down to a concrete floor, where dark water was sitting.

"Well, this is... Encouraging," Damian said.

He looked up at the Super Mutant.

"See you on the other side," he sighed.

The Super Mutant nodded. Damian strapped the flashlight on his chest and began to climb down the ladder, before grabbing the flamethrower that Fawkes was handing him.

The water was up to his ankles. Damian swept the light beam of him lamp in the sewers. He was in a fairly wide tunnel, which led directly to a fork. He put the tank of the flamethrower on his back. Damian could feel the heat coming out of the big barrel of the gun.

He approached the wall and looked for a map. He found some, eaten away by rust and dirt, rendering them unreadable. Damian sighed and turned his gaze to the tunnels. He pointed his flamethrower in front of him and began to move forward.

* * *

**Fun fact, there are 2 differents translation for Deathclaw in the French version of Fallout. In FO3 and FO4, it's Ecorcheur (from the verb"écorcher" = to skin or to flay) while in FNV it's Griffemort ('Griffe" means claw and "mort" means death = Deathclaw)**

**Don't ask me why, I don't know.**

**The reason why I did not put the Temple of Union quest, is because I had no will to make it and wanted to move on with the main story.**

**Until next time.**


	49. Chapter 49: The Claws of Death

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well. Today, Damian ventures deeper in Old Olney in search of the Tesla Coil.**

**Enjoy this chapter and do not hesitate to make remarks (negative or positive).**

* * *

Damian could feel his heart pounding. The smell that floated in the air was hardly bearable and stung his nostrils. The whole sewage system was plunged into darkness and his flashlight was struggling to give a source of light enough to illuminate everything.

Damian walked through a maintenance room, which had been converted into a dormitory by the former occupants of the city. Traces of dried blood covered the floor and the beds had been knocked over. He tried to imagine the terror the former occupants must have felt, seeing a pack of Deathclaw ringing at their door and ransacking everything.

He went through another sewer tunnel and came across several dead bodies, including that of a member of the Brotherhood. The man was dead for a couple of days. His power armor was shredded, and he was bathed in a large pool of blood and viscera. His helmet was a little farther away and an expression of terror could be seen on his face.

Damian grabbed the man's ID-tag and put them in his pocket before turning his light in both directions of the tunnel. He began to hear footsteps and breathing sounds. He tried to ignore the drumming of his heart in his chest and listened. The noises had stopped, but he was sure he had not been dreaming. Damian swallowed with difficulty and resumed his exploration of the tunnels.

The big napalm tank was starting to give him back pain. From time to time he could feel a bone or human or animal remains cracking under his feet.

After several minutes and after turning back several times, Damian stumbled on a ladder. He prayed inwardly that he had not returned to his starting point and began to climb the metal rungs.

Damian pushed the manhole cover and put his head through the opening. He was in a small messy room. A destroyed generator occupied one corner of the room and a makeshift barricade of wood, metal and sandbags surrounded the manhole.

Damian approached the door and heard footsteps. The sounds were coming towards him and he could see that it was two people running.

Two ghouls wearing patched clothes burst into the room. When they saw Damian with his flamethrower, they stopped and raised their hands in the air.

"Don't shoot!" shouted one of the ghouls.

The second ghoul turned to her and put its hand over its mouth before taking a terrified look at where they came from. Silence fell. Damian observed the two ghouls in silence.

Seeing that he had no belligerent intentions towards them and that nothing was pursuing them, the two ghouls relaxed a little.

"What are you doing here?" asked a ghoul with a cap and motorcycle glasses.

"I can ask you the same question," said Damian.

The two ghouls exchanged glances.

"We had come to settle here with our people, but the jerks just forgot to tell us it was in the middle of a nest of fucking Deathclaws."

The ghoul took another nervous look behind them and then turned to the manhole.

"Is that where you came from?" asked the ghouls.

Damian nodded. The two ghouls looked at each other again. Damian stepped aside to let them pass.

The two ghouls rushed to the manhole.

"I'm looking for a power station. Do you know if there is one in Old Olney?"

"You're already in it, smoothskin. But the thing is, it's crawling with Deathclaw and believe me, they're not happy."

The ghouls came down the ladder and closed the manhole cover behind them. Damian took a deep breath and left the room. He entered a large room, filled with turbines, which had been turned into a common room by the former occupants. Walls of sheet metal and wooden planks separated a bar and restaurant from the rest of the room.

Damian walked to a maintenance tunnel and arrived in a stairwell. Emergency lighting was working, but the small lamps hanging on the walls were not enough to illuminate the place properly.

The staircase led Damian to the first floor of the turbine room. On the large footbridge, Damian came across two ghoul corpses, or rather what was left of them. One of the ghouls had half its body crushed under a cupboard and its head had been pulverized and the trace of a large animal footprint was in its place.

The second ghoul had been cut in half and a long trail of blood ran from its torso and disappeared to the rest of the plant.

Reluctantly, Damian followed the blood trail, which led him to other ghoul corpses with large gashes on their backs or torso.

Damian descended a staircase and found an entrance for a water drainage tunnel. A little further on, a hole had been dug in the wall and led to a cave. Damian went in and immediately put his hand on the flashlight to hide the beam.

A bone with some meat still hanging around it rolled to Damian's feet and he looked up. The cave ended on a small upward slope and at the top was a pile of bones and pieces of flesh, and a long brown reptilian tail with small thorns on it.

Damian could hear the creature eating. Its tail moved slowly. The Deathclaw looked up and sniffed the air. Damian leaned against the cave wall and held his breath.

The young man tilted his head. The Deathclaw was gone. Damian advanced slowly. His hands were gripping the handle of the flamethrower so tightly that his fingers began to cramp.

One step at a time, Damian climbed up the slope. The cave was under a ruined building. There was nothing in the room he had just entered. A little further on, Damian could see medical beds and large lamps used for surgery.

The walls were in part destroyed or collapsed. The paint on the ceiling and walls that were still standing was peeling. The place was into complete darkness. Damian felt the urge to run for his life and go back, growing inside him.

There was no sound at all, other than his breathing. A shiver ran down Damian's spine. He walked slowly and heard a slight growl coming from further down the corridors. He froze and swung his bust from right to left to light up the place around him.

Damian took a few more steps forward. He stepped over a destroyed wall looking all around him. Through a hole in the wall, the beam of his lamp caught a skin covered with scales.

Damian turned slowly to the left. Through another hole in the wall, he lit the Deathclaw's head. The creature's head turned towards him and stared at him with reptilian eyes. Damian saw the creature's pupils retract as he held the torch at its face.

The Deathclaw slowly opened its mouth, revealing a jaw full of fangs. The creature looked at Damian and growled. It wasn't wearing a mind control helmet and its horns were much longer than on any other specimen Damian had encountered.

The monster growled again. With its hand, he grabbed the end of the hole and scraped its claws against the wall.

Damian felt that his heart was about to burst out of his chest. This specimen was much larger than the one in Raven Rock and must have been twice as large and long as the one outside. Damian could not take his eyes off the creature. Behind it, he saw movement.

Two more Deathclaw appeared, then a third and a fourth. Damian quickly slid his eyes towards the other creatures. They seemed younger than the great monster watching him and their horns were much shorter, unlike the claws on their hands, which could cut anything to pieces.

Damian knew nothing about these creatures, except for the few pieces of information that the scribe Vallincourt had given him. He slowly backed away, keeping his ears open to make sure that no Deathclaw was behind him or trying to get around him. He had the feeling that if he took his eyes off the creatures, they were going to attack him.

Damian felt the tank of the flamethrower hit the wall. The lapping of the napalm resounded, and he heard the great Deathclaw growl and hiss. The creature turned its head towards two others little Deathclaws who approached Damian and growled.

The two young ones immediately retreated. The larger specimen scraped its claws against the wall and moved forward a little. Damian could see that even when leaned forward, the horns of the mutant abomination were only inches from the ceiling.

The Deathclaw scratched the floor and growled at Damian. It opened its jaws, and saliva dropped from it on the ground. Even at that distance, Damian could smell the horrible breath of putrid flesh coming from the creature. The Deathclaw roared and Damian pulled the trigger on his flamethrower.

The tongue of fire licked the skin of the monster, which retreated with a groan of pain. The spot of light emitted by the flames had stuck to Damian's retina and he blinked several times to stabilize his vision.

He saw the Deathclaw turn on itself and whip the air with its tail and advance again to him. Damian fired again. The flames caused the creature to retreat, and it began to roar and hit the ground.

Damian fired again and left the trigger pulled. The Deathclaw arm caught fire. The monster screamed in pain and began to roll on the ground. The other Deathclaw growled and roared. Damian shot at the creature again and engulfed it completely in the flames.

Damian pointed the flamethrower at the other creatures. The little Deathclaw hesitated. They stared at Damian, hissing and growling. Damian pulled small flames towards the monsters to make them back off.

The big Deathclaw was dead. Damian approached the burning corpse. The fire lit up the surroundings and Damian counted a total of ten other young Deathclaw. They came in various sizes, but the largest was about the same size as him.

The flames cracked and gnawed at the skin and flesh of the monster, giving off the smell of overcooked meat. The light of the blaze illuminated the other creatures, reinforcing their horrific appearance. They were all bunched up and were looking at him, ready to jump forward and slash him with their claws.

Damian saw them move and begin to surround him. One of the Scorcher approached Damian... He pointed his weapon at the creature, which stopped and whistled before retreating.

"That's it, boys," Damian said. "You understand that if you get too close, you're going to end up fried like your fat friend."

He looked around him. The monsters didn't move.

"Come on, now get out of here."

Damian pulled out a new tongue of fire. The Deathclaws moved aside and growled again. Damian moved forward. He was not sure why he was not dead yet. He did not know if the Deathclaws were afraid of him because he had killed the biggest of them, or if they were afraid of the flames.

Damian used his flamethrower to create a path of fire to a hole in the ground. Below, the basement of the building. Part of the floor was held back by pipes and from there Damian could jump on a large boiler to reach the basement.

He did not know where he had to go next, but anywhere but here would be perfect.

One of the Deathclaw ran at him, growling and Damian throw a tongue of fire in its direction. He took the opportunity to jump down below. The part of the floor resting on the pipes gave way under his weight and Damian slid down. When he hit the floor, he rolled to the side.

He got up as quickly as he could and looked around, pointing his flamethrower in all directions. Above him he could hear the Deathclaw growling and whistling. He heard footsteps coming from a stairwell. Damian rushed to the door and just as he saw the two legs of a Deathclaw coming down the stairs and rushing towards him, he fired a stream of flame and closed the door before blocking it with whatever he could find.

He heard something smash on the door and through the small opaque window he saw the head of a Deathclaw. Damian moved back, his flamethrower ready to fire. The Deathclaw scraped the metal door with their claws.

The noises stopped. Damian stood staring at the door for a few more seconds and let out a long sigh. His adventure in the Statesman Hotel or Vault 87 had been a terrifying experience, but it was nothing compared to coming face to face with a pack of those monsters.

Damian turned around and walked across the room he was in. He came to an opening in a wall, leading to another room, which had been transformed into a living space by the former occupants of the building. Damian wanted to search the place in a little more detail, but above all he wanted to put as much distance as possible between him and the Deathclaws.

He resumed his advance, passing by the shelves and everyday objects still present, as well as the remains of the last humans to have lived there. He went through several tunnels dug in the rock or the walls and wondered whether it was the work of the Deathclaws or of the people who lived here, until he fell into a room with a large machine from which several pipes and water pipes were coming out.

Damian heard something crack under his feet. He looked down and realized that it was not just another human or animal bone, but an eggshell. He raised his head and lit up the room. In the corners, around furniture or machines, small piles of eggs, the size of a football.

Most had hatched and seemed to have been there for a long time, while others had been laid recently. By lighting them up, Damian could see the embryos and skinning babies moving inside.

The idea of burning the nest crossed his mind, but he changed his mind. He wanted to keep his ammunition and the fuel for his flamethrower in case he ran into troops from the Enclave or another Deathclaw. Moreover, having a pack of these abominations locked up with him in a dark and cramped place was bad enough for his nerves, and the last thing he needed was for the Deathclaws to go completely mad because he had decided to burn their nest.

He heard metallic footsteps coming towards him. Damian looked around and hid in a recess in the wall near a machine that looked like a turbine or pump and turned off his flashlight.

Footsteps were approaching and Damian saw three silhouettes enter the room. Despite the darkness, he could see that the three newcomers were wearing power armor, thanks to the red lids on their helmets, which gave the impression of seeing two eyes floating in the void.

The three silhouettes entered the room and scanned the area.

Damian discreetly grabbed his pistol. The three soldiers of the Enclave resumed their advance, moving slowly towards the Deathclaw nest. Damian watched them pass by, his gun ready for use.

The soldiers stopped in front of the nest and started to talk in a low voice. Two of them went in the tunnel dug in the wall, while the third soldier, crouched and started to grab the eggs to put them in a large crate. The Enclave was probably there to get their hands on the Tesla coil before the Brotherhood did and capture several of the Hunters for their training program.

Damian took the opportunity to sneak out of his hiding place. He took the path the soldiers had taken, being careful not to make any noise.

Damian took a staircase and after going through a corridor, came to another ruined building. It was as if the place had been hit by an earthquake. The ceiling had collapsed and taken all the floors with it, only a few pillars were still standing, with a remnant of floor around them.

Damian could hear a motor roar above his head. He approached cautiously and looked up.

Just above the building, a hovering Vertibird. It was lowering a cage for a Deathclaw with a cable, under the supervision of several soldiers.

Damian inspected the interior of the building. There were four soldiers from the Enclave in total, but there could have been others in the corridors or behind the pillars. Damian looked for a few more seconds at the scene unfolding before his eyes. He grabbed his assault rifle and stabilized his weapon against a piece of concrete and placed the Vertibird in his sight.

Damian pulled the trigger. A small set of sparks came out of one of the Vertibird's rotors. Damian fired again. From the corner of his eye, he could see the soldiers of the Enclave grabbing their weapons and looking for him.

Damian fired several successive shots. The Vertibird's rotor gave off smoke and then flames appeared in the propeller.

The Vertibird began to swing, dragging the cage with it. The cage swung along its cable and began to hit the walls. The pilot visibly tried to get away by gaining altitude. The rotor exploded and the aircraft began to spin.

The cage suspended at the end of the cable spun dangerously, bumping into the pillars and the soldiers of the Enclave running for cover further down the building.

Damian took advantage of the confusion to shoot the remaining soldiers. He turned around and saw the three soldiers he had passed earlier coming running towards his. Damian emptied the rest of his clip in their direction, forcing them to back off. He grabbed his flamethrower and fired a spray of flame in their direction.

Damian jumped over the concrete mound and took shelter from the debris falling around him. Behind him, he heard the Vertibird crash into the roof of the building and fall inside. Damian looked up at the three soldiers.

A few small flames finished burning, and Damian could hear a horrible scream. One of the soldiers was gone, replaced by a puddle of a viscous, green, fluorescent liquid in the area where the bubble had formed.

One Enclave soldier was lying on his back, shaken with spasms. His armor and helmet had melted, and a green puddle-like liquid was flowing inside on his body.

The second soldier was sitting on the floor screaming in pain. He was holding his right arm, dissolving in a steaming greenish liquid.

The heat of the flames must have exploded a plasma grenade on one of the soldiers. Damian reloaded his assault rifle and walked through the building.

He passed under the wreckage of the Vertibird, trapped between two concrete slabs a few meters above the ground. Both pilots were still harnessed in their seats, dead or unconscious.

Damian entered another part of the building. He climbed up a stairwell and crossed a corridor to reach a footbridge over a large room filled with turbines and computer consoles.

This section of the building was empty. Damian came across only the inert remains of several Sentry bots.

He searched the adjacent offices and came across a map of the building. After memorizing it the best he could, he resumed his exploration of the premises.

His Pip-Boy sizzled as he arrived near a hallway separated by a metal door and a wall terminal. After activating the computer, Damian was given two options. He was given two options: _"Evacuate radiation"_ or _"Turn off the automatic procedure"_ of a device.

Preferring to play it safe, Damian activated both options. He heard the crackling of his Pip-Boy stop. He entered the hallway and found several rectangular shaped devices on the walls, similar to those used by members of the Church of Atom in Springvale to irradiate water.

There were several skeletons in the corridor, and fluorescent mushrooms had grown on their remains.

Damian crossed the hallway and entered a large room, where there were several strange devices. These generators looked like large air vents mounted on top of each other. From the space between the two parts, small electric arcs regularly spurted out in a crackling sound. Damian walked slowly, being careful not to get too close to the machines.

He passed the toasted remains of a Sentry bot. At the end of the room, he came across a corridor lined with computer consoles whose diodes all flashed at slow and irregular rates.

Damian entered the corridor and immediately heard a metal door sliding on his left. He turned his head at the same time as a red laser beam passed within a few centimeters of his head. Surprised, Damian stumbled backwards. He crawled back on all fours and pointed his rifle at the door.

He heard no footsteps, no voices, no sound except the crackling of the electric arcs behind him.

Damian got up and slowly approached the door. He glanced and a laser beam crashed against the wall.

"Damn it!"

Damian closed his eyes and backed away again. He reached for his canteen and poured water on his face. He opened his eyes slowly and blinked several times. The laser beam had projected shards of concrete and wall cladding and Damian had received some in his face. He let his eyesight return to normal, praying inside not to go blind.

He turned back and returned to the offices he had searched earlier. He returned with two mugs in his hands. He stopped in front of the corridor.

He threw the first mug into the corridor and immediately two laser beams targeted the object and burst it. The shots continued to be fired at the porcelain pieces for a while longer and only ceased when there was nothing left.

Damian checked that his weapon was in automatic mode. He threw the mug into the corridor, towards the source of the laser beams. The discharges of energy caused the mug to explode. Damian jumped from behind the door and pointed his gun at the source of the fire.

Two military-type laser turrets fired relentlessly at what was left of the cup. Damian fired two bursts on each turret which went off. Damian took cover again. Leaning against the wall, he slid down to the floor and picked up a shell casing between his fingers and threw it into the hallway. He heard the small copper cartridge fall to the floor, but no laser shot.

Damian ventured to look. The turrets were no longer a threat. Damian sighed and crossed the corridor.

He arrived at a new metal door and opened it, preparing to fall on a new set of turrets. Instead, he discovered a large circular room, with a hole in the middle, from which large electric arcs escaped, projecting a bright blue light onto the walls.

Damian cautiously approached the hole. A few meters below, he could see a small object that resembled the one described in Hood's file.

The electric arcs seemed to gush out of the Tesla Coil and rise up to the ceiling and into receptacles before continuing their way God only knew where.

The young man searched the room looking for a way to get to the Tesla Coil, and especially for a way to turn off the current. In the hole, around the Tesla Coil, Damian noticed three switches. Convinced that if he went down there without turning off the current, he would be electrocuted, he decided to find another way. He could have fired the switches to destroy them, but he didn't want to find out if the metal barrel of his gun would attract the lightning if he got too close.

Damian found a ladder and a sign indicating the exit, as well as a stairway. He took the stairs and came across a small office.

The notes of the scientists who had worked on this project were scattered all over the room, and next to a functioning terminal, Damian found a miniature replica of the Tesla Coil. The terminal was locked. Damian began searching, with little hope of finding the password through all the clutter. Luck smiled upon him when he found an ID card, inside a lab coat hanging on a chair.

Damian heard the power go out and the infernal crackling of the lightning in the hole stopped. He opened the door and, noticing that he was no longer in any danger, he entered and took the Tesla Coil.

The object was surprisingly light, and Damian felt a slight tingling in his hands as he grasped it.

"Tristan?" Damian asked on his radio.

The radio only emitted statics

"Tristan, this is Franklin. Do you read me?" he asked.

The radio remained silent.

"Shit," swore Damian.

He stowed the Tesla Coil in his bag and put his radio's strap back on his shoulder, then walked to the ladder he had seen earlier and climbed to the surface.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**This encounter with the Deathclaw is mostly inspired from one in FO4 and the 1st Jurassic Park book.**

**Until next time.**


	50. Chapter 50: The Gate to Hell

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**And there we hit chapter 50 and start a new arc in the story**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Damian finally reached the top of the ladder. The tunnel had been big enough for him to pass through with the flamethrower on his back. He stopped just below the manhole cover and caught his breath.

The tank of the flamethrower weighed down on his back and he was starting to get aches in the lower part of his neck.

Damian lifted the metal plate and squinted his eyes as the daylight entered the tunnel. The hole led to a large parking lot, located outside Olney's town and behind the large white building Damian had seen from the fire station. A trail of smoke was coming from the roof, indicating that this was probably the ruined building he had walked through and where he had destroyed the Vertibird.

Damian looked around, and then exited the tunnel. Fawkes was waiting for him on the other side of town. Damian replaced the manhole cover and grabbed the radio.

"Tristan, this is Franklin, come in."

He heard a growl and turned around but saw nothing exceot a brick wall separating the parking lot from the rest of the landscape. Damian looked up. At the top of the wall, a Deathclaw was watching him. The creature had at its feet the corpse of an Enclave soldier. A trickle of blood was flowing from the Deathclaw's mouth.

Damian stepped back. The Deathclaw growled again. It left the corpse of the soldier and jumped from the wall.

"_Lone Wanderer, Lyons' Pride actual, come in. Do you have the device?"_ asked Tristan's voice in the radio.

The animal roared and approached with a menacing air. Damian dropped the radio and aimed the flamethrower at the creature and sent a stream of flame in its direction. The Deathclaw retreated with a grunt. Damian looked around him. He could not see any other Deathclaw, but he could not see Fawkes either.

The parking lot was completely deserted, except for a few cars that were rusting in the rising sun. Damian was going to have to kill this Deathclaw if he wanted to get out of the parking lot safely.

He let the Deathclaw move forward a little and pulled the trigger on his flamethrower. A stream of fire sprang from the barrel of the gun. The flames flew towards the Deathclaw, who leapt to the side. Damian followed the animal's movement, but the flames went out. A few drops of gasoline dripped from the muzzle of the gun.

The Deathclaw roared and rushed at Damian who dove to the side, avoiding the claw that nearly tore his head off. He grabbed his assault rifle and felt the creature's tail hit him in the stomach. The shock made Damian pulled the trigger, but the shots missed. He hit the front bumper of a car and hit his head against the tank of the flamethrower.

Damian came to his senses just in time to see the Deathclaw rushing at him. Damian rolled to the side and heard the creature hit the vehicle, which slid a few centimeters. The Deathclaw shook its head, stunned, and looked around. It saw Damian trying to get rid of the tank of his flamethrower and ran towards him.

Damian pulled the tank from his back and climbed up the hood of a car. He crawled through the broken windshield and into the back seat. He turned around and saw the Deathclaw trying to grab him by putting its hand through the windows of the car. Damian grabbed his pistol and fired a bullet that went in the eye of the creature, which collapsed on the car in a metallic noise.

Damian took a long sigh and put his head against the perforated seat of the car. He crawled out of the car.

Another growl sounded from the wall above the parking lot. Damian raised his head and saw a second Deathclaw. He raised his assault rifle when a laser beam hit the creature in the chest. A second beam hit it in the throat. The creature fell from the wall headfirst.

Damian turned his head. A man in Brotherhood power armor stood not far from the parking lot. He inspected the area around him before lowering his weapon and quickly approached Damian.

The man removed his helmet. He had dark hair, brown eyes, and a slight three-day-old beard on his face.

"Knight Danse. Paladin Tristan sent me. Have you secured the objective?"

Damian caught his breath and nodded his head. He reached into his bag to grab the Tesla Coil. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Knight raise his weapon and point it toward the city. Damian raised his assault rifle and saw Fawkes walking towards them.

Fawkes stood still. Damian lowered his rifle and to his relief, the Knight did not to fire. Danse frowned and gave the Super Mutant a scornful look.

"I'm relieved to see that you're all right," said the Super Mutant. "When I heard the shots and saw the explosion of the Vertibird, I feared the worst."

"I'm fine Fawkes, thank you," Damian replied.

"We should get back to the Citadel," the Knight said.

Damian nodded. They set off and went around Old Olney to the West, getting as far away as possible from that deadly place.

After a few minutes of walking, Danse stopped and tapped his helmet. He did it again, harder, and took it off before inspecting the interior.

"A problem?" Damian asked.

"The radio in my helmet is picking up statics."

Damian raised his Pip-Boy and turned the radio on.

"What's the frequency?" Damian asked.

"120."

Damian tuned the radio. The static started to crackle. In the middle of the noise, Damian could hear something, like a voice. Danse had put his helmet back on and walked a few steps away.

"Here," he cried.

Damian joined him. The static had almost stopped, and Damian could hear a man's voice on the radio.

_"...this message, my name is Wernher. I come from a town in the North. I have information of vital importance that I'm ready to give to anyone who will help me free my people from slavery. Please... Please help us!"_

A robotic voice announced that the message would be repeated. Immediately, echoes of gunfire came from the Northwest.

Damian let the message repeat itself in his head. His mind wandered to the scenes he had seen in Paradise Falls. Children locked in cages, men and women sold to the highest bidder like cattle.

He grabbed his gear and began to head to the source of the shots that were still ringing.

"May I know what you're doing?" cried Danse. "We have a mission to accomplish."

In response, Damian reached into his bag and gave him the Tesla Coil.

"If the Enclave was able to destroy the Citadel, it would have done so long ago," Damian said, hoping wholeheartedly to be right.

The Knight of the Brotherhood protested and then confessed defeat when he saw that Damian would not turn back. He sighed and headed for the Citadel.

Damian had been walking for about 20 minutes in the pouring rain. He was in the middle of a small forest of dead trees, stuck between several rocky hills and the remains of a monorail.

The radio signal was getting stronger as he walked along. Fire had become sporadic and was now coming from the West.

Damian climbed a rocky mound with Fawkes. The fire seemed to come from a large radio tower, the likely source of the radio message.

They approached the tower slowly, watching for any suspicious movement. Several bullets slammed close to them. Damian dove to the ground, while Fawkes took cover behind a rock. Shouts of voices echoed in front of them.

Damian raised his head. A woman, wearing a tank top and pierced jeans, with a rifle beside her, was lying on the ground. Damian approached her and saw that she had been shot with a large bullet in the stomach.

More shots rang out, closer together, and a cry of pain rose before going out immediately. Damian continued to move forward and approached the radio tower. He passed another dead body with the upper part of its skull missing.

Just behind a rock, he found himself facing the barrel of a revolver. Damian raised his gun and deflected the barrel of the revolver. He subdued his opponent and pushed him away. The man fell backwards and when he got up, he found himself facing the barrel of Damian's gun.

The man had tousled brown hair, a small beard and an eyepatch over his right eye. His face was covered with dirt and small drops of blood.

"So, you finally tracked me down, you bastards," he said with a bitter smile. "Come on, let's get this over with..."

"Was it you who send that radio distress call?" Damian asked.

The man raised his eyebrows.

"Wait... Aren't you with them?"

"No, I'm here for the radio call."

A smirk appeared on the man's face. He got up and dusted off his leather jacket.

"You already know who I am in this case," he said, picking up a large .44 caliber revolver with a scope, and putting it in a holster under his left armpit. "Why don't you tell me who you are?"

"My name is Damian."

"Well, Damian, the man says. I hope you're here to help me."

Wernher headed for the radio tower and the power supply. He turned off the airwaves and then walked to a small straw mattress where some camping gear was scattered. He walked by Fawkes and to his surprise, Damian didn't notice any reaction from the man, as if seeing such a close Super Mutant left him completely indifferent.

"I come from a place quite far, Northwest of D.C.," Wernher said. "It's called Pitt. It's, uh..."

Wernher searched for his words a few moments before he sighed.

"To be frank, it's a pretty hard place to describe. Imagine Hell, and add to it all the shit that's going on in this world and you'll have a vague idea of what it can be."

He gathered his things and then headed towards the corpses Damian had come across on his way here.

"Radiation, disease, mutations. But the worst part is, my people, they're enslaved in all this mess."

He turned to Damian and waited for his reaction. Damian remained stoic. It wasn't the first or the last time he had heard this kind of speech, and although the idea of seeing an entire town under the control of slavers like those in Paradise Falls surprised him or revolted him, he did not show it.

"It's not an easy task, I'll admit it," Wernher continued. "But I have a solution. I have the means to set my people free. All I need is help from someone on the outside."

"Is that why you came to the Capital Wasteland?" Damian asked.

"Yeah, and that's why these guys are tracking me. As long as I know about the cure and I'm alive, I'm a threat," Wernher said.

"Wait a second," Damian cut him off. "What cure? What does this have to do with slavery?"

Wernher took a deep breath and looked down.

"Pitt is a real shithole. Those who live there are bound to get sick one day or another. The inhabitants are dying or... Worse. I don't know where it comes from, but it's something in the air or in the water. Everybody's dealing with it. Usually it takes a few years to get sick, but sometimes, especially with people born in Pitt, it only takes a few months, sometimes a few days to get sick."

"What kind of illness are you talking about?"

"I don't know exactly," sighed Wernher. "No one is affected in the same way. Most of the time, the symptoms are lesions on the skin, like this."

Wernher rolled up the sleeve of his jacket and showed Damian his forearm. His skin seemed to be burned or infected by something and blisters and redness stretched from his wrist to his elbow.

"In some people it stops there," said Wernher while hiding his arm under his sleeve. "For others it ends into a plague-like illness, minus the contagion. You get sick and you die. Others go completely nuts and live outside the city. And the worst ones... They forget who they are. Their appearance changes, they behave like wild animals and do nothing but kill, eat, sleep and fuck. I hope you don't have to run into them..."

"And this cure you're talking about, it will eradicate this disease?"

"Yes," Wernher said hopefully. "But only the bastards who exploit my people have it and they refuse to share it with us!"

He looked around him as if he feared that someone else might hear him.

"Look, I need your help. I know you must have other things to do, and I know you might not care what happens to us, but without you, my people will die."

"What am I gonna have to do?"

"I need you to infiltrate Pitt. Once you're inside, you're gonna have to find a way to get close to the guy in charge. His name's Ashur. He and his slaver goons are running the city with an iron fist and no-one's dared stand up to him so far. Once you get close to him, steal the cure from him."

"Where's the trap? Damian asked, certain that it would not be an easy job.

"Well, you're going to have to pretend to be a slave if you want to get enter town. They'll never let anyone with all that gear go through, let alone someone with a mutant on their heels."

Damian hesitated for a few moments. The war against the Enclave was an urgent matter. Yet he could not bring himself to turn his back on this man and condemn all these people to a fate similar to that of the slaves in Paradise Falls.

"All right, Wernher. I'll do it."

The man thanked Damian with a smile and a nod.

"Okay, let's go, let's not waste time."

About ten minutes later, they arrived at a railway tunnel. The place consisted of a large concrete construction, similar to some of the metro tunnel entrances in downtown D.C.. A wide half-open metal door separated the tunnel from the outside world, the purgatory from Hell, and the rails, twisted and rusted over the past two centuries, snapped out of the structure and meandered away into the Wastes.

Several freight and passenger cars were scattered around the tunnel entrance.

"Shit…"

Damian was lying next to Wernher on a rock, while Fawkes was standing guard behind them.

Next to the tunnel, a group of men and women were held inside a small enclosure, surrounded by barbed- wire. All were wearing rags, had no shoes and had bruise on their faces or arms.

Outside the enclosure, a smaller group of men, wearing leather outfits or military fatigues and jackets and armed with assault rifles, shotguns or laser rifles for some of them.

They seemed to have set up camp at the train tunnel, as Damian noticed a tin metal sheet, welded pillars to act as a small roof under which, three of these armed men were sheltering from the rain, around a burning barrel.

Two others were standing near the enclosure, sliding a police baton against the fence and addressing a young girl, while a third one was patrolling the enclosure.

"You know these guys?" Damian asked, as Wernher swore again.

"They are slavers, but no, I don't know them, they are not from Pitt. Slave trade is a great business in the Wastes. With all the death caused by the disease in Pitt and the ever-growing demand in workforce for Pitt, Ashur started to import slaves from different parts of the Wasteland. Now, any Raider gang, who wants to make easy caps can kidnap some people and sell them to the Pitt Raiders. Looks like these ones are about to send a lot of poor souls to Hell."

Damian was biting his lips and inner cheeks in frustration. He had wiped all slavers from Paradise Falls, but it was a far cry from stopping slavery in the Capital Wasteland, as the corpses in the building on his way to Old Olney had proven him. The dead slaves had started to decay and with the abuse some had been through before dying, it was impossible for Damian to know for sure if they died before or after his visit of Paradise Falls.

Here again, this group of slavers was the bitter proof that every Raider gang that would get eliminated in the Wastes, would just leave an empty place that a new group would be happy to fill.

Damian thought back to the Regulators, these cowboys looking vigilantes he had met before. If them, or the Brotherhood, wanted to get rid of the plague that were the Raiders and slavers, it would take years to secure the entire area of D.C. and a tremendous amount of men and women to make sure that no other group would come and take the vacant spots. That of course, if the Brotherhood could eliminate the Enclave and the Super Mutants.

"With my escape and all the Raiders on my trail, I lost track of time," whispered Wernher. "I though I could find help and come back before a new shipment."

"Is there no other way to go to Pitt?" Damian asked.

"No… I mean I don't know. I've never been outside Pitt before, and I escaped through that tunnel. I got lucky when I arrived here, the camp was deserted. I guess they only come here when there's a new shipment."

Damian watched the camp and the tunnel. The idea of asking the Brotherhood for help crossed his mind, but as they already had no men to spare to help him on a dangerous mission, it was certain they would not send him any help, and going to Pitt with the Vertibird was impossible. Damian had no idea how to fly this thing and it was far from being a discreet mean of transport.

He looked at the slave's enclosure and tried to count them.

"They must have been here for quite a while if they managed to kidnap so much people," Damian said.

"Not necessarily," Wernher replied. "Look, most of the captives are old people and women. I think they attacked a town, killed everyone resisting and took all other people here."

Damian looked at the slaver camp and the train tunnel.

"What's happening next? You know the slave trade better than I."

Wernher stared at the camp in silence for a moment before answering.

"I know that some of Ashur's men are sent outside Pitt to collect slaves. I suggest we wait and… Well, speak of the devil."

Damian looked at the camp and saw several figures coming out of the train tunnel. From a distance, they looked like ghouls and were dressed in leather outfit or draped in a cloth poncho. They slowly approached the enclosure and started talking with the local slavers while observing the people behind the barbed-wire fence.

"Do you think you can take these guys out?" Wernher asked.

Damian looked at the slavers talking next to the enclosure.

"Yeah, but won't the Raiders in Pitt be alarm not to see their friend come back?"

Wernher shook his head.

"The outside of Pitt is very dangerous, same for the tunnel. Besides, Ashur's not a very popular man outside of his city, so…"

If I can get close enough, then yes. Assuming you'll be helping."

Wernher grabbed his magnum revolver and Damian heard the distinctive noise of the cylinder turning very fast. Damian turned to Fawkes.

"Fawkes, you stay here and cover us. Let's try to do it quietly for as long as possible and wait for my signal."

"Don't you forget anyone?"

Wernher pointed to the various freight trains and wagons and Damian saw a slaver wrapped in a black poncho, scanning the Wasteland with a sniper rifle in his hands.

"I'll go left. Good luck," Wernher said.

Damian looked the area for a path that would allow him to get close without being noticed and attached his silencer on his 10mm pistol.

Fawkes took position on the rock while Damian and Werhner approached the camp from two different directions.

Damian took a discreet look toward the enclosure, from under the wagon. The slavers where all gathered around the enclosure. One opened the door and forced a small group of captives to come out.

He walked along the wagons until he arrived under the sniper. The slaver was scanning the Wasteland through the scope of his rifle.

Damian climbed on a ladder and stopped at the edge of the wagon and prepared his knife. Suddenly a gunshot resounded among the drumming of the rain. He saw the sniper turning away from him to face the camp.

Damian climbed up. He grabbed the sniper's poncho and pulled. The man fell down from the wagon. At the same time, Damian heard screams and cries. He jumped on the slaver and thrusted the blade inside the man's neck.

"What's going on?" Damian heard.

Damian was sure that Wernher or Fawkes had been spotted, but he did not hear any other gunshot. Instead, was the sound of the pouring rain and the cries of some slaves.

"Nothin'. Just a guy who tried to escape. Fuck, next time, aim the leg. Dead slaves are worth nothing."

Damian exhaled slowly. From under the wagon, he could see the shadows and legs of the slavers, resuming their bargaining and discussions.

"Right, where were we? Ah, yes, these ones. They are too old, the trip to Pitt will kill them and even if they survive, they won't last a day of work. I give you 300 each for the five guys over there. They are young and healthy. Same for the girls. Boys back in Pitt are tired of banging girls that look like feral ghouls. Some fresh beautiful skin will be a nice change."

Damian heard some of the slavers chuckle.

"500 for the girls. Each. Non-negotiable."

The laughter stopped. Damian looked between two wagons. The slavers around the burning barrel and walked away to dispose of the dead slave and were putting chains and ropes around the necks, ankles and wrists of some slaves. The Pitt Raiders and the leader of the local slavers had taken their place around the brazier and where now negotiating.

Damian grabbed a frag grenade and took a few steps back.

"Well, gotta keep the workforce and the boys happy, am I right?"

Damian threw the grenade, which landed next to the negotiating slavers. The explosion resounded, immediately followed by gunshots from Fawkes and Wernher.

Damian walked around the wagons and stumbled on the rest of the slavers, running away. Damian turned his head and saw Fawkes, on top of the rocky hill, aiming at them and eliminating the runners. Damian motioned to Fawkes to come and went back to the camp.

Wernher was standing over one of the Pitt slavers and seemed to be talking to him. Damian approached, but before he could hear anything, Wernher shot the man in the head. Damian looked at the dead Pitt slavers. They looked like regular Raiders or slavers, except that their skin was covered by lesions, just like Wernher's arm. For some it was just on some part of their arms or on the neck. For the other, it was all over the face and they actually looked like ghouls.

Damian approached the tied-up slaves who looked at him and Fawkes in terror.

"Don't be afraid,' Damian said. "It's over."

He grabbed his knife and cut the ropes restraining the slaves, while the Super Mutant removed their chains.

"Who are you?" asked one of the slaves.

"Come on," said Wernher in his back. "We've got to hurry!"

Damian finished removing the ropes and went to the enclosure and smashed the padlock with his rifle butt.

All the slaves ran outside, thanking him and scattered in the Wasteland.

"Here. You'll just have to put these on when we get there, and sorry for the smell."

Damian turned around and saw Wernher handing him some rags, which he assumed where worn by the dead slave. He rolled the clothes and put them in his bag.

"Perfect," said Wernher. "Gather what you need for the trip. Just one more thing. Your... Companion can't come with us."

"Why?

"I don't feel like attracting attention by showing up with him."

Damian turned to Fawkes.

"I'm sorry," he began to say.

Fawkes raised his hand.

"Don't worry about me. I'll wait for you to come back here. And someone has to give the dead a nice resting place."

Damian gave him his radio and his Pip-Boy. Even though he had agreed to help Wernher, he did not trust him completely and he would rather leave some of his things to Fawkes than to this man.

"If the Brotherhood contact you, explain them the situation and tell them that I'll be back soon."

The Super Mutant bowed slightly forward. He watched Damian return to Wernher and enter the tunnel.

In the tunnel, Damian followed Wernher to a handcar set up on the tracks.

"We should reach Pitt in the early evening, if all goes well," Wernher said as he activated the lights on the handcar.

He sat behind the manual mechanism and waited for Damian to settle in. They operated the mechanism and the handcar started to move slowly, following the rails under its wheels, sinking into the darkness. After a moment, they stopped and the handcar, powered by a small electric generator, moved on its own, following the tracks.

"Tell me," Damian asked. "That Ashur. What can you tell me about him?"

Wernher did not seem to hear the question. Damian was about to rehearse when the man answered.

"Ashur came to power about twenty years ago. Pitt is not a good place to live, but it was worse before Ashur came. Pitt was and is still, nothing but a ruined city, ravaged by radiation and pre-war industrial waste. The people who lived there were killing each other to survive and they all ended up becoming Trogs, humanoid monsters with disease-ridden brains, or being eaten by one of those things. About twenty years ago, these guys called the Brotherhood of Steel came to town and started shooting at anything that looked like a mutant, a cannibal or a Raider."

Damian was surprised to learn that the Brotherhood had come through Pitt. His father had explained to him that they were from the West Coast, but he wondered why Lyons and his men had passed through Pitt before they went to D.C.

"Shortly after they left, Ahsur arrived, and he took control of Pitt, with the help of some survivors. Then more Raiders and mercenaries began to flock in, and they called themselves the _"Army of Ashur"_. For his part, Ashur began to dream about reviving the city's factories and industry, with the idea of rebuilding civilization by rail in mind. Yeah, you heard right, that nutcase wants to rebuild the railroad network all over the country."

"Quite an ambitious idea," Damian commented.

"Yeah, but like I told you, with all the radiation and the disease that continues to affect everyone, there aren't many volunteers to come and collect steel. So, Ashur started importing slaves."

"What about you?" Damian asked.

"I was born around the time the Brotherhood purged the city. Without their intervention, Ashur could never have seized power. While I was in Pitt, I learnt about the cure and gathered some other slaves to organize the rebellion, but without help from the outside, it won't succeed. So, I managed to escape a couple of days ago and came here to look for help and found you."

They observed the darkness in front of them for a moment.

"The Pitt. What kind of name is that?"

"It's because before the Great War, the city was called Pittsburgh. I'm surprised you don't know or have never heard of Pitt. Ever since Ashur started his slave trade, getting sent there, has been everyone's great fear."

Wernher grabbed a small flask and drank a couple of sips. He handed it to Damian who silently declined.

"You should get some rest. Pitt is a long trip, even with this automated handcar."

Wernher turned toward the tunnel. Damian looked in the darkness, wondering what he was going to find at the end of the tunnel.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Until next time**


	51. Chapter 51: Industrial Revolution

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**First, thank you to the people who have reviewed/favorite/followed..., knowing that you enjoy the story makes me happy.**

**Don't hesitate to make any positive or negative remarks.**

**Today a longer chapter, mainly because the begininng of this chapter was initially the ending of the previous one.**

**Please enjoy**

* * *

Damian felt like he had been in that tunnel forever. He looked up at the ceiling of the tunnel, thinking that it would have been so easy to teleport to the alien ship and back down to Pittsburgh.

"Just a few more miles and we're there," Wernher warned him.

Damian gathered his gear. The train tunnel was in fact a giant maze. On their way, Damian had lightened the walls and saw some indications left by the Pitt slavers, pointing to their home or the Capital Wasteland.

"This is it," Wernher finally said.

With the faint light of the headlights, Damian could see a small slope in front of them. Wernher cut the generator and the handcar went down the slope before coming to a standstill. A few meters further on, Damian could see a large steel door, which closed the tunnel and from which the setting sunlight filtered in.

Wernher jumped from the handcar and approached the door and look outside. He returned a few moments later.

"All right, it looks clear. When you reach the city gates, you'll be searched, so don't expect to be able to bring anything in with you. I'll find a way to get your stuff in, so give it to me."

Damian looked at him suspiciously.

"If I wanted to strip you, I would have done it in the tunnel!" Wernher cried out in an annoyed tone.

Reluctantly Damian nodded. He followed Wernher outside. They were in a passage similar to the entrance to Evergreen Mill, stuck in a rocky crevasse. In the distance, Damian could see factory chimneys from which thick black smoke was billowing. Freight cars were stopped on the side of the track and a red brick industrial building was just beside the entrance to the tunnel.

There was a strange smell in the air. A mixture of detergent, rotten eggs, and burnt food.

Damian followed Wernher to an asphalt road, going into a tunnel in the mountain. The road was blocked by wrecks of cars, trucks and military vehicles.

On the left, a ruined building had recently been used as a camp for people, judging by the small mattresses and the remains of campfires on the ground floor.

The road led to a large bridge crossing over a river. On the other side, Damian could see the ruined facades of large office buildings, as well as a large industrial area, where factories had been re-started and were spewing black smoke, slowly covering the sky.

The bridge was still standing, despite the Great War and two centuries of exposure to the elements without maintenance. On the steel pylons, human and animal corpses were hung by chains and flock of crows flew around them and fed on the corpses. The sign above the road welcomed visitors to the city of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The end of the city's name had been crossed out by graffiti, leaving only the message, _"Welcome to Pitt"_ in legible form.

"There we are. Pitt," Wernher said.

Damian stared at the city. It was even worse than what he had imagined. The place was not as damaged as D.C., but there was something inexplicable that made Damian feel that Pitt was far worse than the Capital Wasteland.

"Watch out on the bridge, the bastards like to set traps to keep the slaves from escaping, so watch your step. Once you've crossed the bridge, follow the road and head right. You'll find the entrance."

"So, I just come knocking at the door?" asked Damian a bit skeptical.

"That's the idea. Look, I know this plan sucks, but that's the only one I have. They won't shoot you. Trust me. Many slaves have already tried to escape and some of them went back to Pitt. You're up for getting your ass kicked but they won't kill you or hurt you too much. After all, they'll need you to be healthy to work."

The bridge was almost impassable. The pedestrian crossings on the side were full of bear traps or landmines, when they were not blocked by wooden barricades.

The small space between the cars was too narrow for Damian and Wernher to get through, so he walked on top of the cars to be able to move forward.

"After we cross, I'll go my own way. Once you're inside, look for a woman named Midea. She'll help you."

They finally arrived on the other side. Crouched behind a rusty military truck, Wernher was scanning the area, while Damian removed his armor and cloth to put on the rags. The rags were stinking, bit it was nothing compared to the horrible smell coming from the river or the industrial fumes.

"You ready?" Wernher asked.

Damian nodded in silent. He gave his gear to Wernher who put it in a duffel bag.

"I'll give it back to you when we meet again, with the cure."

"What do I do once I get the cure?"

"Go to Midea, she knows the plan."

Wernher extended his arm.

"Good luck, my friend," he said shaking Damian's hand. "We are counting on you."

Damian watched him walk along a building and disappear inside. Damian followed the street. Halfway across he heard a growl. He looked around but saw nothing. The growling started again and he saw a big, hairless dog with a snub-nosed chin bent over the body of a man. Two other dogs appeared, coming out from buildings.

Damian swore silently. He walked away slowly. The dogs followed him and came closer and closer.

"Shit…"

Damian sprinted to the other end of the street. He could hear the dogs running and barking behind him. He jumped over the hood of a wrecked car and kept running.

Behind his back Damian heard an explosion. He looked over his shoulder and saw what looked like the body of a dog falling heavily on top of the car. One of the two remaining dogs turned back, but the last one was still chasing him.

Damian came to a crossroads. The end of the street in front of him and to the left were blocked by a collapsed building. Damian moved to the right.

He looked behind him. The dog was still on his heels.

About twenty meters away, a large fence with barbed wire blocked the street. Three spotlights cast a bright white light towards Damian. He closed his eyes and kept running. Damian heard laughter and bursts of voice. He opened his eyes and bumped into the gate.

"Slave bastard... Here comes another one!"

Damian looked at the figures on the other side of the gate. There was a group of men and women, wearing leather suits or overalls, giggling at him, while a second group, men and women also, were sitting on the ground, held at gun point by some of the slavers.

He looked out into the street and saw the dog hesitating to approach. The animal was glaring at the gate and the men and women on the other side.

"What then? Afraid of a little doggie?" one of the guards laughed.

Damian heard something falling next to him. He turned his head and saw a steel bar on the ground.

"You want to come back inside? Kill the dog."

The dog barked and growled. Slowly Damian bent down and picked up the metal bar. He tried to scare the dog by hitting the gate.

"Come on! Kill it!"

The dog ran towards Damian, who dodged a bite. The few guards on the other side of the gate started taking bets on who would win between Damian and the hound. Damian raised his rudimentary weapon and prepared to ward off another assault.

A shot rang out. The dog squealed and fell to the side. Damian turned around. A man with a shaved head and battle armor lowered a small revolver. He looked at the guards around him who were putting their caps away, sighing that their distraction was coming to an end.

"Open the door!" the man shouted.

The gate creaked and rolled to the side. Two men came out and disarmed Damian, who watched the dog whining and dying. They brought Damian face to face with the man with the shaved head. The man looked at Damian from head to toe.

"I love it when they come back on their own," the man smiled. "So, asshole, you couldn't cross the bridge? Did the bad doggie scare you?"

Damian did not answer. The man remained silent, obviously waiting for a reaction. He motioned to his men and Damian felt the butt of a rifle in his flank and fell to the ground.

The slaver put his rifle away and started to search Damian.

"He's clear."

"All right, get him up."

Damian felt himself being lifted off the ground. The man stared at him for a few more seconds, then to the other slaves, and pointed to a street on his right.

"Go back to work. Oh, and the next time you try to get away, I'm throwing you to The Trogs."

With a nod, he ordered his men to take Damian and the slaves away.

The street they were walking on was littered with trash and the sidewalks were clogged with rubble. After about ten meters, Damian and his escort arrived at a small square, lined with tall buildings.

A cacophony of voices, hammering tools and saw whistles rose from the place. Along the buildings, scaffolding had been erected to allow the slavers to move freely and keep an eye on their prisoners.

Damian saw three men in rags, facing a wall with their hands on their heads. A man in a puffy brown work outfit, his head covered by a construction helmet and a mask that made him look like a mole, shouted at them and waved a submachinegun beside their heads. The three men were shaken with spasms of terror. The man in the mask, pulled the breech of his gun.

"Which one you motherfuckers did it? Speak up! Was it you? Or you? Who helped them escape?"

The three men remained silent and shook their heads frantically. The masked man hit one of the slaves on the temple with his gun.

He shouted again but got no response from the terrified slaves. He turned his head toward Damian and the other.

"Well, let's ask them then. Which one of these three stinking scab helped you escape?"

The slaves remained silent. Damian could hear one of the slavers sighed.

"Can't you just shoot one?" he asked.

"Nah, I'll try something different," said the masked slaver.

He looked at Damian and the other slaves and pointed a finger at them.

"_Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Mo,_

_Catch a Mole rat by the toe._

_If it hollers, let it go,_

_Eeny, Meeny, Miny… Mo."_

The slaver had his finger pointed at Damian.

"So, scab, who helped you escape?"

Damian looked at the three slaves, still facing the wall.

"I…"

"You better not tell me you don't know, or I'll blow this dude's head off."

The slaver walked back to the three slaves and raised his gun at one of them.

"I can't hear anything."

"Jesus Christ! Just fucking tell him!" cried the slave with the gun pointed at him.

"Was it him? Or him? Or maybe this one?"

"For fucks sake," sighed one of the slavers. "Just shoot him and let the others go back to work."

The slaver pulled the trigger. The slave straightened and collapsed on the ground. The slaver turned toward the other slaves, who had stopped working to watch the scene.

"In case escaping went through your little rotten mind, this, is what awaits you! Now get back to work."

He yelled at the two remaining slaves and ordered them to get rid of the body.

"What a fucking waste of time," said one of the slavers. "Come on, you. Get moving."

The city of Pittsburgh seemed less affected by the destruction than D.C. and its downtown. The place where he stood had been dug and laid out so that the slaves could, with the help of large circular saws, harvest metal from the bodies of cars or cut pieces of the city's old water pipes.

The stench in the air near the bridge was much less strong here, but Damian felt as if something was creeping into his body every time, he breathed in.

All the slaves present had skin lesions that made them look like ghouls, as well as the slavers who watched them from the scaffolding. Some had just a scarred face, while others looked like they had been burned by a chemical.

Damian noticed the evil look in the eyes of one of the slavers and he walked down one of the small alleys near the square. The alleyway led to a small courtyard between several buildings and served as a gathering place for the slaves. The slavers pushed them inside and warned them again that if they were caught, they would get executed.

On a small platform, several slaves were kneeling, their heads and arms trapped between two wooden planks fixed to posts, in a scene reminiscent of the humiliations and public executions of the Middle Ages.

Some slaves looked at them with sorrowful or indifferent looks. The slaves present looked briefly at Damian and the others before returning to their discussion or heading back to the square to work.

A small space had been turned into a refectory and Damian could smell a rather unpleasant odor emanating from it. He saw a woman, her face devoured by disease, cutting or boning pieces of meat, spread out on a metal grill on two blocks of concrete, and distributing them among several plates.

A woman wearing patched clothes and a piece of cloth on her head passed by Damian.

"Follow me," she whispered almost inaudibly.

Damian watched her walk away to a door of one of the buildings and followed her, under the suspicious gaze of the guards who were watching the area.

Damian pushed open the metal door through which the woman had just passed and entered an old, dilapidated and poorly lit apartment. Several mattresses piled up on the floor and an indescribable but unpleasant smell was in the air. Damian grinned and looked around. The woman, in her thirties, was standing near a desk and motioned for him to come closer.

"Wernher sent you, didn't he?" the woman whispered.

"Yes, are you Midea? How do you know who I am?"

"Yes, it's me. I saw you arrive with the one who tried to flee, and you're the only one I've never seen before. We have to hurry. The guards saw you come in here, and since they think you've tried to escape, they'll be extra careful with you."

"Great," Damian sighed.

Midea glanced briefly at the door and turned towards Damian.

"I have a plan to get you into Ashur's palace, but until then we must wait. Lay low and blend in with the others. If the guards think you're not working enough, they'll throw you to the Trogs."

"I need you to tell me as much as you can," Damian answered.

Midea looked at the door again.

"Wernher must have already explained everything to you, about the Trogs, our life as slaves, the sickness. The key to our liberation and healing is the cure. The longer we stay here, the more chance we have of dying of this hellhole or turning into monsters. Almost every child born here becomes a Trog in a few months or even weeks."

"This cure, it's in Ashur's place I assume."

"Yes," Midea nodded. "It's the first thing that hasn't been infected with the disease."

Damian frowned. Midea's sentence was strange. He opened his mouth to question her when the door to the room opened on the fly.

A tall man with a small blonde line of hair on his head, a goatee and dressed in one of those brown puffy suits burst into the room, shaking a gun in his hand.

"What the hell's going on here, Midea? Who the hell is that? Why aren't you working?"

The man gave Damian and Midea a murderous look. The woman stammered an unintelligible answer.

"What? I'm waiting!" spat the man out.

"Uh... It's... He... I... I was talking to him about the job... The job given by the Foreman," Midea answered. "You have to explain it well to the new guys..."

The man turned to Damian and a smirk on his lips appeared.

"Oh, so he's the one who's going out into the Steelyard?"

"Yes," said the slave shyly. "I explained to him what he had to do. Ten ingots, as soon as possible."

The slaver smiled again and stared at Damian.

"I hope you've said goodbye to everyone, newbie."

He burst out laughing and put the gun away.

"Okay, playtime's over! Back to work, scabs!" he cried suddenly.

He stepped aside, inviting Midea and Damian out. The woman looked at Damian, silently telling him that the conversation was over and that he should go on alone from now on. The man closed the door behind him violently and returned to the scaffolding, shoving and shouting at the slaves.

"Go to Marco in the Mill near the control room. He will give you a weapon. Now hurry up and leave before someone sees us."

Midea took a quick step away, leaving Damian alone. He left the alleyway and followed the scaffolding to the street. On the walls, graffiti marked the directions to the different places in Pitt. Damian followed those that indicated the Mill and arrived in front of a large red brick building.

Damian noticed that all the streets, whether blocked by rubble or not, were guarded by at least two slaver and were closed off by thick metal barriers, five meters high, topped with barbed wire and projectors that lit up the ruins with bright white light. An unpleasant impression took hold of Damian. He had the feeling that the fences were as much to prevent something from entering as to prevent the slaves from escaping and he had the unpleasant feeling that somewhere in the ruins, behind the fence, something was lurking in the shadows.

He entered the Mill by a loading dock and immediately a stifling heat grabbed his chest. There was a hellish racket in the building, a mixture of hissing saws, screams, gurgling molten metal and the clatter of metal presses.

Damian had seen the brownfields outside of D.C. before, such as the large factory overlooking all the Capital Wasteland near Minefield and where he had been abducted by aliens, but he had never been inside one of these pre-war buildings.

During his History lessons, back in Vault 101 classes, he had seen many films and photos of factories in the United States. These factories, which were running at full capacity before the Great War, were now abandoned and had, for the most part, become living places for feral ghouls or groups of Raiders, and only some brave scavengers dared to venture there to hope to plunder the few objects still exploitable that lay there.

All these buildings were now only ruins among many others in the landscape of the Wasteland, remnants of an extinct civilization, and the long brick chimneys that rose to the sky now served as landmarks for travelers.

Except for the Pitt factories. Damian would never have imagined that these factories and the machines they contained could ever be restarted. He was convinced that the know-how to operate such machines had disappeared along with the people who had used them two centuries earlier. In Vault 101, where each person had an area of expertise that would allow the Vault to function, it would have been impossible to find anyone capable of operating these machines, and Damian suspected that some of the Brotherhood scribes would be eager to learn how to operate a metal press or these machines.

Ashur had done it. He and his army of slavers and Raiders had started up this factory again, and were slowly melting metal and making, under the supervision of tired and sick slaves, steel rails to rebuild civilization.

Conveyor belts brought plates of molten metal under a press, which flattened them, before they were taken to another machine, whose function was unknown to Damian. Above his head, large vats, hanging from clamps, slid along a rail in the ceiling and poured their molten metal contents into other vats before pouring it into molds.

Damian walked through the Mill and started looking for a control room. He stopped next to a slave cutting a huge steel beam with his circular saw and asked where he could find Marco. The slave shook his head briefly and returned to his work after looking at the guards watching the factory from the catwalks on the upper floors.

Damian continued his search. He walked past a hole in the factory floor. The hole was covered with wire mesh, welded to iron bars and fixed into the ground to form a small dome. Inside, Damian could see a large hole several meters deep that ended in a small space dug into the rock where piles of tires, drums of radioactive waste, trash and small wooden constructions were piled up.

He continued his search for several minutes and discovered that a part of the Mill's machines had been reprogrammed to produce bullets. A single press, surrounded by armed slavers who would yell, hit or aim at any slave that walked a little too close, was creating 5.56 and .308 cartridges. With a machine like this one, the slavers would never run out of ammunition, and could outmatch any other Wasteland army.

Damian finally found a small room filled with computers and control consoles. Inside, a small man of Asian descent, simply dressed in a loincloth and a harness around his chest, was sweating profusely and mumbling in front of a terminal screen.

Damian approached and cleared his throat. The man turned around and automatically looked towards the door of the room.

"Is that you Marco?" Damian asked. "It's Midea who..."

"Not so loud," the man cut him off in an almost inaudible breath because of the clatter of the machines. "If the bosses find out what we're up to, we'll end up in the belly of a Trog."

Damian saw him shudder at the thought.

"Well, what do you want?" whispered the man as he approached Damian.

"I was told you could give me something."

The man blinked several times, visibly confused. Damian rolled his eyes and discreetly mimicked a gun with his thumb and index finger. Marco opened his mouth and raised his eyebrows, finally understanding. He grabbed a large circular saw from under a table and presented it to Damian.

"I call them auto axes. Nice, huh? I make them out of car parts I get from the city. It cuts through metal as well as flesh, so be careful when you use it."

"Great, I guess," Damian replied, taking the tool in his hands.

He was expecting Marco to give him a small revolver, not a hacksaw made out of everything he could get his hands on. The tool was heavy. It had a yellow body, similar to a chainsaw. A bicycle chain acted as a belt and connected the body and motor to several coarsely sharpened metal blades.

"It's very simple to use," said Marco. "You just need to pull this handle. It starts the engine. Then you press here to turn the saw. I just finished building this one, so don't worry about fuel."

Marco looked through the control room door. Damian turned around. Outside, one of the slaves was lying on his side, holding his belly and moaning.

A woman in a metal suit, wearing a hood and goggles, approached and leaned over him.

"Poor guy," sighed Marco. "It's the disease that spreads."

He pushed Damian towards the exit.

"Go before the bosses come to see why you're not working."

Damian left the control room. The woman, a slaver, was kicking the man's legs on the ground, writhing in pain.

The man who had interrupted the conversation with Midea materialized in front of Damian.

"What are you jerking off, scab?" he shouted. "Go get me those steel ingots from the depot!"

He punched Damian in the face, who stumbled and almost fell to the ground. The man grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him in the direction of the wire mesh dome in the factory floor.

Next to the dome, Damian spotted a small staircase leading to a factory hallway. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the man was watching him. He climbed up the stairs and arrived in front of another man, leaning against the wall next to graffiti indicating a place called _"the Steelyard"_.

Damian was startled when he saw a man in front of him. He had a small blonde crest of hair, a goatee and was wearing a black tank-top and leather pants with military boots. Damian thought it was the same man who had just hit him, as the resemblance was so striking.

The man watched Damian approach him and threw his cigarette butt on the floor before blowing the smoke.

"So, you're the one who hit the jackpot and who has to bring back the steel ingots today?" the man asked in a tone that contrasted sharply with the spitting and invective of the other slavers.

"Yes," Damian answered.

"Ah, finally a little enthusiasm," the man said sarcastically.

He motioned to Damian to follow him. They walked down a corridor until they reached a small office.

"Tell me, who did you piss off to end up with this death sentence?" asked the man. "No, don't tell me, it's not important. You're going to die in no time anyway."

Damian followed the man in silence. He led him into another corridor, with a heavy locked metal door. The man unlocked the door and entered another corridor. At the end, a small makeshift barricade overlooked an abandoned part of the factory. The man scanned the area and pointed to something in the room. Damian squinted his eyes to see better, but darkness prevented him from seeing clearly.

"See that guy over there? You'll see a lot like him in the city."

Damian thought he saw a humanoid silhouette, walking on all fours and slowly approaching them. The slaver approached a spotlight and turned it on. A bright white light lit up the room. Damian heard an animal growl that gave him shivers and saw a shadow crawl out of the beam of light. He hadn't had time to get a good look, but he was convinced that the thing was crawling around on all fours.

The man scanned the area again and stepped onto a small scaffold to reach the other side of the room. He stopped in front of a large metal door and unlocked it.

"Actually, I have something to ask you. If you could get killed near the door, that would be great. That way, I'd have a lot less to walk to loot your corpse."

He looked over his shoulder and sent a little grin to Damian. He reached for a bag near the door and pulled out a large bar of steel.

"That's the thing you need to find, and no, don't bring me nine and say that makes ten with this one, other before you have tried, and guess what, it did not work. Don't bring me scrap metal, it won't do."

He pushed Damian through the open door and immediately closed it behind him.

Damian found himself outside on a loading dock where a construction lamp was shining a bright white light.

The sky was dark, and the fading sunlight was struggling to illuminate the place. It had started raining again and Damian could hear the raindrops crashing against the sheet metal of a truck a little further away or the ground around him. He could also hear several flares and could see the walls of the industrial buildings in the area lit by the flames.

In front of him, Damian saw a corpse, wearing slave rags. Damian approached cautiously. The man's body was covered with skin lesions, making the cause of death impossible to determine. Next to him was an R91 assault rifle and two magazines, as well as a bag containing two large steel ingots.

Damian retrieved the weapon and checked the ammunition. He only had about 40 rounds of ammunition in reserve. He picked up the bag. The steel ingots weighed quite heavy and Damian hoped to be able to carry ten at a time.

He looked around and began to think about where he could find the eight missing ingots.

To his left, a fence prevented access to a dump where drums of radioactive waste were piled up. The platform on which he was standing continued towards what appeared to be a train depot. He noticed a stationary truck further on and a wooden ramp to climb onto the trailer.

Damian had a bad feeling. He felt like he was being watched. He looked around again, and towards the door leading to the steel mill. He did not see any holes through which the slaver could observe him.

The humanoid shadow he had seen in the abandoned part of the Mill came back to his mind, as well as the alien abominations of the ship. He shivered and grasped the handle of his makeshift circular saw more firmly.

Damian walked towards the truck. He looked in all directions. The threatening shadows of the buildings around him, coupled with the unpleasant feeling of being watched, made him feel even worse.

He climbed on the truck and looked at the area around him.

To his right were several rows of freight trains and a collapsed tunnel. To his left were large dumpsters overflowing with rubble or steel debris. Damian noticed several steel ingots protruding from one of the dumpsters.

In front of him, the area continued to expand. A sheet metal building, surrounded by a metal staircase, led to a second, higher part of the depot, where several large warehouses and a large circular building were piled up, from which several conveyors and large pipes ran out.

A pipeline labyrinth meandered over the depot and several metal walkways and stairs ran along the walls of the warehouses or factories.

The depot was full of cramped spaces, blind spots or dark passageways that could be used for ambushes.

Damian turned to the dumpsters and jumped into one of them. He searched for a few moments and retrieved four steel bars and ingots, that, he hoped, would do.

He searched a third dumpster but found nothing that could be used. He was about to turn back to the truck when he saw a large metal garbage can stuck at the foot of the dumpster and a building. The lid was lifted and inside was a dead slave sticking out of it.

Both or the slave's legs were broken, and bones were coming out and his body was covered in bruises, as if he had fallen from a great height. Damian noticed three new steel bars in the trash can.

Damian sniffed and wiped the rain from his face. He approached the edges of the dumpster and inspected every corner on the way to make sure that nothing would jump out at him as soon as he got down.

Damian readjusted the bag of steel bars on his back with a growl and jumped off the dumpster. He retrieved the three new steel bars and quickly returned to a more open space.

"Only one more," Damian said to regain his courage.

He went back to the truck to observe the area but came across a strange scene. Behind a gate that encircled the corner of the Mill, Damian saw a slave. The man was alive and was also carrying a bag to pick up steel. He was leaning slightly forward and waving at something in front of him.

Damian jumped back and instinctively put his hand where his gun holster should have been.

In front of the slave, a creature in humanoid form, stood crouching. Hairless, with ochre skin, the thing stared at the slave, growling and groaning. Damian noticed that its limbs were longer than those of a human. its feet and hands were abnormally long, of the same shape and all had one finger or toe missing. Its appearance was reminiscent of a feral ghoul. Its face was more like that of a Super Mutant than a human and had a constant grimace on it.

The slave called the thing in front of him.

"Billy, it's me, your brother. Do you recognize me?"

The creature moved a little closer to the slave. There was nothing human about its gait. It walked on all fours, slowly, crudely. Like a wild animal.

The slave laughed nervously and took a step back.

"Billy?" he repeated. "It's me John-John..."

The creature growled more aggressively. The slave backed away again, then turned around and started to run. The creature leaned on his legs and jumped forward. It jumped several meters and landed in front of the man and let out a growl.

Damian dropped his big auto axe and grabbed his assault rifle. The creature jumped on top of the slave, who screamed in terror. The creature hit him on the head with its fists and stuck its teeth down the slave's throat. It rammed the slave, smashing his face to a pulp before it began to devour him.

Damian aimed his weapon and pulled the trigger. The bullet flew towards the creature and hit it in the arm. Damian pulled the trigger again, but the shell remained stuck in the breech. He tried to loosen it. He looked up and saw that the creature was gone. Instead, only the disfigured, half-eaten corpse of the slave remained.

He looked around him, while banging and pulling the breech of his weapon.

"Come on, goddamn it... Now's not the time to jam…"

He heard a growl next to him. The creature stood between him and the factory loading platform. It grunted and gave a shout in which Damian thought he recognized the word "eat". The thing rushed at Damian, who appeared to attack it with the butt of his rifle.

The creature slowly turned around him. Damian glanced furtively around in case any of the other creatures wanted to join them.

The thing leaned on its hind legs and leapt at Damian who crushed the stock of his rifle against the creature's face as it rolled on the ground. The thing tried to get up, but Damian smashed its skull with his gun in an unpleasant crack. The thing's skull collapsed a few centimeters and one of its eyes popped out of its orbit.

Damian walked away from the creature and turned on himself, ready for battle. He saw no other creature and heard nothing but the roar of the rain.

He tried again to unjam his weapon but had to give up. He threw the weapon into a dumpster and picked up his auto axe.

He still had one more steel bar to find. Damian walked to the top of the depot. He held the auto axe firmly and started the engine. A slight humming sound told him that his makeshift weapon would be ready for use if needed.

Damian walked cautiously, looking all around him. He finally found two more steel bars, half-buried in the ground between two warehouses. He placed them in his bag and quickly returned toward the Mill.

He descended the stairs and walked past the stationary trains. There, two creatures sprang up, fighting over a piece of meat. When they saw Damian, they stopped fighting and turned to him, growling.

Damian raised his auto axe just when one of the creatures ran at him. He activated the blades, which began to rotate rapidly with a shrill whistle.

The sharp pieces of metal cut through the creature's flesh with disconcerting ease. The thing groaned in pain and collapsed to the ground groaning and crawling away, its belly torn apart by the saw.

The second creature growled and ran towards Damian, who lowered his saw. The blades hit the thing's head and burrowed into its skull.

Damian closed his eyes when the blood and brains splashed down on his face. He felt his auto axe get stuck and the thing, with the blades still stuck in its skull, fell to the ground. Damian dropped his weapon and quickly wiped his face, spitting out any bits of skin or flesh he may have received in his mouth. He raised his head to the sky and rubbed his face to remove the blood that was beginning to stick to his skin.

The first creature kept moaning on the ground, but against all odds it moved towards Damian and from time to time waved its arms towards him to grab him, as its entrails slowly poured out on the wet ground.

Damian pulled the blades of his auto axe out of the thing's skull with an unpleasant cracking sound. The smell emanating from these animals, that was the right word, was unbearable.

He glanced up at the sky. The clouds of smoke coming from the chimneys of the Mill and the rumbling storm darkened the sky even more. Damian hurried back to the Mill.

He went through the loading dock door and entered the abandoned area. He closed the door behind him and sighed. He noticed that the white light, which had been on until now, was off. He heard a growl and saw a humanoid shadow moving on all fours rush over him.

Damian saw the thing jump on him. He protected himself with his arms and felt the mass of the creature fall on him and push him against the wall.

The thing was only inches away from him. It was jawing at Damian's throat. He managed to throw the creature to the ground, but it got back on its feet and jumped at him again.

Damian had just enough time to brandish his axe in the direction of the thing that impaled itself against the blades.

Damian dropped his weapon and headed for the factory gate. He knocked on it and, after endless seconds, the door opened on the man with the little blonde crest of hair.

"Already back?" he said visibly surprised.

He looked over Damian's shoulder.

"Hey, I see you even killed the Trog who was walking around the factory. I forgot you were outside, so I turned off the light. Anyway, you got the steel ingots?"

Damian grabbed the bag from his back and dropped it at the slaver's feet. The man looked at him for a few seconds, silently.

"What? You don't think I'm going to open the bag, do you? That's your job, scab."

Damian knelt after a moment without reacting and opened the bag. The slaver looked inside and counted out loud, while Damian pulled out the steel bars.

"Eleven bars," he said, turning to Damian. "I'm not going to comment on the fact that you can't count, since you've brought me what I need. Anyway, take this to the Mill, and if you feel like going back out there, let me know."

He giggled briefly and watched Damian as he put the steel bars in the bag and headed inside the Mill.

Damian placed his bag in a cart that a slave took to another part of the factory. A bell started ringing. The slavers whistled and began to gather the slaves and move them to the exit.

Damian, led by the crowd, moved towards the exit. The slaves were all heading towards the small courtyard where Damian had met Midea. He found her and approached her.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"It's Ashur, he asked that everyone be gathered in the square. He's going to open the Hole. It's perfect."

"What do you mean _"perfect"_?"

"Every once in a while, Ashur opens the Hole. You must have seen it, it's that big hole inside the Mill. Any slave who wishes may ask to fight in the Hole against Ashur's gladiators."

"And how is that a good thing?" Damian rephrased.

"Three victories in the arena means freedom, and more importantly, an audience with Ashur. If you succeed, you will be able to seize the cure."

"You make it sound so simple," Damian said in a brittle tone.

"Wernher has planned... A diversion, so you can get your hands on the cure."

A man wearing a simple leather suit stepped onto the scaffolding and raised a small megaphone.

"Silence! Lord Ashur will speak!"

The slaves turned to the scaffolding overlooking the courtyard and waited.

A large silhouette appeared on the scaffolding and Damian was surprised to see that the man who had just arrived was wearing an old power armor. To his knowledge, only members of the Brotherhood, the Enclave or the Outcasts wore them.

From where he was, he couldn't get a good look at the man. He could see, however, that the armor was damaged and that its owner had added some ornaments, such as the skull of a Brahmin to replace one of the shoulder pads.

The slaver gave the man in power armor the megaphone and took a few steps back.

"Inhabitants of Pitt, workers of Downtown, merchants of the Uptown, all of you who work for the good of everyone, I bring you good news!"

Ashur watched the crowd in front of him, marking a brief silence. He raised one arm and pointed to the buildings around him.

"We are at the dawn of a new golden age!" he said. "The Commonwealth envies our industry! The Capital Wasteland dream of our security and Ronto envies our power! And it is thanks to your efforts and strength that the rest of the world has its eyes on Pitt!"

Ashur's speech sounded like that of a feudal lord. Damian found it hard to believe that anyone among the slaves shared Ashur's views. Damian looked briefly at the men and women at Ashur's side. They seemed indifferent to the words of the master of the place and were watching the slaves as they stroked the grips of their assault rifles.

"The world envies our victories on the freedom front!" Ashur continued. "For yes, freedom is what we are working for, together!"

Damian could not believe his ears. Ashur, probably one of the greatest slavers in the Wasteland, with whom Eulogy Jones and the Paradise Falls slavers had most certainly had to deal on several occasions, spoke of freedom to the men and women he sacrificed in a pre-war steel mill to forge metal and railroad rails.

"Freedom!" repeated Ashur, who seemed to go into a trance as his speech continued. "Freedom in the face of the fear of our enemies, in the face of the disease that gnaws at our bodies and transforms our children into the monstrosities that are the Trogs! Freedom, to be able to return to the life that our ancestors led before they knew the chains of atomic fire!"

As Ashur spoke, Damian asked himself more and more questions. The man who spoke to him and the slaves seemed to believe what he was saying, but what intrigued Damian was the fact that Ashur did not look like all those Raiders or slavers who were ravaging the Wasteland. He did not seem to be speaking to slaves, but rather to workers or subjects of a kingdom.

"Then, to celebrate this freedom!" exclaimed Ashur. "I ask you, loyal workers: who among you is willing to fight for his freedom? Who among you will risk his life in the Hole to finally know freedom in the upper city? Who wants to seize this chance to rise?"

A heavy silence settled over the square.

"Here! Lord Ashur! Here, we have a volunteer! This man desires to fight in the Hole!"

Damian turned to Midea who had her finger pointed at him. All the slaves turned to him and Damian felt Ashur's gaze weigh upon him.

"If this is the will of the workers, then so be it!"

Ashur leaned against the scalding railing and spoke directly to Damian.

"Young man, you are not only the embodiment of the dream of all these workers, you are the embodiment of our liberation from the threats of this world."

Ashur waved his hand. Two slavers split the crowd and approached Damian. They grabbed him by the arms and escorted him out of the square towards the Mill.

Damian met the cheering and hopeful eyes of Midea and some of the other slaves. Just before he was taken away, he met the gaze of a woman he immediately recognized. She had long brown hair and lesions and scars were beginning to appear on her skin. It was the young woman he had seen in Paradise Falls. She looked at him and seemed to recognize him.

This unknown woman, whom Damian had mistaken for Amata and who had aroused in him a deep hatred for the slavers, was there in Pitt, and had just given Damian, with a single glance, one more motivation to emerge victorious from this arena and prove to Ashur that his great speech about freedom was going to come true sooner than he thought.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**I did not further develop the Steelyard part, mainly because I always hated this part of going out to fetch steel ingots.**

**Until next time.**


	52. Chapter 52: Morituri te salutant

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

The slavers escorted Damian to the Mill. They took him through a door next to the dome of the arena. There, a woman in metal armor and with the right side of her head shaved stood in front of him and looked at him with a small grin.

"What's that? I already have my personal slave," she said.

"This scab wants to fight in the Hole," said one of the men escorting Damian.

"So, you're the poor bastard who signed up to fight," cried out the woman with a light laugh. "You've got guts, but will that be enough?"

She motioned for Damian to follow her and led him down a small corridor, lined with empty liquor bottles and human skulls. They walked down a staircase until they reached a room occupied by a large drainpipe cut in half and a generator.

A locker with a broken door was against one of the walls. The room was lit by small braziers, and on a table, Damian noticed a syringe lying next to a pile of RadAway. Cages, similar to those at Paradise Falls or Raiders camps were finishing decorating the room.

A woman was in the room, wearing a black tank top and jeans of the same colour and carrying an assault rifle across her shoulder. When she heard the woman and Damian enter, she looked up.

"Hey Faydra!" said the woman in the metal armor. "I'll bring you some meat for the grinder."

Faydra, whose face was devoured by the lesions of the Trog disease, stared at Damian and inspected him from head to toe.

"What?" she said. "That's what's going to fight?"

"Yeah," replied the woman in armor. "Ashur asked who among the scabs wanted to _"rise up"_ and this guy volunteered."

"Great," said Faydra unemotional. "I hope he lasts longer than the last asshole who showed up."

The woman in armor walked away and leaned against a wall before lighting a cigarette.

"Okay," Faydra said to get Damian's attention. "I'll explain the rules to you. When the doors open, you fight. Nothing could be simpler. The last one standing wins. Once the doors open, the barrels fall and there's no turning back, so there's no crying in front of the door."

"What barrels?" Damian asked.

"Radioactive, just to spice up the show a bit. So, hurry up and kill the others before you turn into a ghoul."

"Yeah, otherwise you're going to look like Faydra," laughed the woman in armor.

"Do I get any weapons?"

"You'll find stuff in the locker behind you," Faydra replied while giving the other woman a murderous look.

Damian looked over his shoulder. He approached the locker and opened the door. Inside, he found a studded board, a metal bar and a Chinese assault rifle with two magazines.

"The fight starts in twenty minutes, so if you have a last wish, now's the time."

Damian entered the pipe. He walked a few meters before he found himself in front of a large fenced door. He was in the hole dug in the factory floor. As he looked up, he saw several barrels of radioactive waste hanging from ropes and attached to the wire dome a few meters higher.

The arena must have been about ten meters wide. Wooden or metal piles had been fixed into the walls. In the center, small walls of cinder blocks or sandbags and a small scaffolding provided shelter for the fighters.

Slaves and slavers began to gather around or sit on the dome's grid. Damian could hear encouragement or requests for killing that turned into a great hubbub.

A voice rose from the crowd and covered all the others.

"My friends! Lord Ashur offers you, the arena!"

A thunderous roar of exclamations and applause echoed through the factory.

"For you! A band of slaves, ready to kill each other to be among the privileged few!"

Damian prepared his assault rifle. He was going to confront the same people who had asked him to free them. For these slaves, crushing others to get to the top was easier than waiting for a savior to come. In the end, it was only human nature that manifested itself once again. The only difference was that they were not two co-workers competing for promotion, as Damian had heard about in the pre-war world, but slaves who were going to kill each other to become free men.

Damian looked down into the arena. In small enclosures like the one he was in, he could see the silhouettes of men and women, all holding firearms or hand-to-hand combat.

"Let the entertainment begin! Fight!"

The door to Damian's pen unlocked and opened. At the same time the rope holding the radioactive drums was cut and the barrels fell into the arena.

Damian rushed forward. He stopped behind the scaffolding. A shout from the arena and a wave of exclamations from the crowd above him told him that his opponents had already started to kill each other.

A bullet whistled near Damian's head. He turned around and saw a young woman with a bolt-action rifle behind him. She cocked the breech of her gun. Damian raised his rifle but hesitated. The woman aimed and Damian dove to cover, feeling the bullet miss him by an inch. He had no will to kill these people, but they were. Damian heard a third bullet passing next to his hear. He rose from his cover and fired at the woman. The determined expression she had on her face turned into an expression of surprise. She dropped her rifle and fell on her back holding her stomach.

Damian heard a scream beside him. He turned his head and saw two men fighting hand-to-hand. One of them, a very tall man, stuck a plank of wood in his opponent's face and pushed him against one of the walls where he impaled himself against a wooden spike.

The tall man turned to Damian. He hid behind a cinder block wall when Damian aimed his weapon. He fired, one of the bullets went through one of the concrete blocks and hit the man in the shoulder.

The man picked up a stone and threw it at Damian. He bent down and dodged it. When he stood up, he saw the man run into him. He grabbed the barrel of Damian's gun and disarmed him. Damian put his foot in his stomach before turning around and running towards the woman's body.

The man had grabbed Damian's rifle and he could hear him pulling the breech of the weapon. Damian hit the dirt. He rolled to the side and grabbed the woman's rifle before crawling behind the scaffolding.

Lying on his stomach, he aimed. Through the empty space between the scaffolding and the ground, he hit the man in the leg. The man fell to his knees. He tried to get up and received a second bullet in the head.

The crowd exulted. A torrent of applause rose.

"Oh, my friends! What a fight!" cried the voice of the commentator. "How far will this slave go?"

Damian stood up and glanced at the woman who was dying on the ground. Upstairs, he could hear the slavers ordering the crowd to move away. The show had ended, and everyone had to go back to work.

Damian kneeled next to the young woman. She was younger than him, and, just like him, she seemed to have just arrive in Pitt, as she had no skin lesions or sign of the Trog disease.

The young woman looked at him, in silence. Her chest and stomach were bleeding and Damian knew that there was nothing he could do to save her. The girl had her hands on her belly and pressed one of the wounds to stop the stream of blood.

He breathed heavily, and, after hesitating, he put his hand on the young girl's.

He looked into the young girl's eyes and to his great surprise, he saw no hate or fear. He felt the girl grabbing and holding his hand.

"I'm sorry," Damian whispered.

He did not want to kill these people, but it was the only way to free the slaves. This woman had not hesitated to shoot at Damian, yet he did not feel any anger or resent toward her. She had probably asked to fight in the arena to gain her freedom, unaware that Damian was fighting not for him, but for all the slaves of Pitt.

Damian felt that the grasp of the girl had loosen. He looked at her and saw that she was staring at the ceiling and that she had stopped breathing. Damian sighed and stood up.

He returned to the room where Faydra was.

"Looks like we have a sentimental scab over here," the slaver said. "Don't tell me you were attracted to that chick. I'm pretty sure she would have finish you off, if your situations were reversed."

"Only two fights left, right?" Damian asked.

"Don't get too excited about it, scab," Faydra spat. "Ashur already has plans for you."

"When do I go back?"

Faydra was about to answer but no sound came out of her mouth. She glanced at Damian with a mixture of admiration, fear and questioning.

"Your next fight is tomorrow morning, and you can do the last one in a row, if you make it out alive, of course."

Two slavers entered the room. They disarmed Damian and took him to the small square where Ashur had held his speech.

Damian searched for Midea but could not find her in the crowd. He had several questions for her, but he would have to wait until he saw her.

His belly began to growl, and he realized that his last meal was when he was with Wernher in the tunnels.

He walked to the place that served as a refectory for the slaves. An unappetizing smell rose from the pots and plates and dampened his urge to eat. Damian approached the slave who was in charge of the service, a woman, with her skin almost rotten like a ghoul by the lesions and disease.

"You're lucky," said the slave. "Tonight, to celebrate the opening of the arena, we have dog food on the menu. But hurry up, or you'll only end up with that shitty Trog meat to eat."

Damian grabbed a plate from the counter and walked away. He began to envy the Brotherhood's military rations or the Vault's recycled food. Disregarding the harsh taste of the meat, he quickly ate his meagre meal and looked for an empty place in the dormitory to spend the night.

He stayed awake for a few moments, waiting for Midea's arrival, before sinking into a deep sleep.

"So, scab, you ready for your new fight?"

Damian had been awakened at sunrise by two slavers who escorted him to the arena. He had not been able to see Midea and ask her all the questions he wanted.

Damian had not slept well. He had dreamed about that young girl he had to kill the day before. He no longer cared about the smell in the city or in the dormitory. All night long he had had the impression that something was creeping into him, and he was convinced that small marks appeared on his arms and legs, similar to those that Faydra or the other inhabitants of Pitt had.

Faydra greeted him with a broad grin, further distorting her face, which was already damaged by the disease.

"I am ready," Damian replied.

"Glad to hear it. Ashur wants this morning's fight to be memorable, so he's decided to give you the Bears Brothers. Don't get fooled by the weird name," said Faydra when she saw Damian's surprised expression. "They're a nice bunch of bastards. I hear they're already half Trog."

The fight commentator's voice began to echo, and Damian turned his head towards the pipe that led to the arena. He felt something land against his chest and looked down to see what it was. Faydra had just given him a combat shotgun.

"Come on, scab. Your audience wants you."

Damian entered the pipe and stopped in the pen. His opponents were already in the arena and made great victory signs to the crowd of slaves and slave traders who cheered them from the top of the dome.

The Bear Brothers were two African American men in their late thirties. They looked very much alike and Damian was startled to see that they also resembled one of Sarah's men, Paladin Kodiak.

Both brothers had very short hair. Their faces were covered with skin lesions and began to freeze in an expression similar to the Trogs of the Steelyard or the ruins of Pittsburgh.

One wore a puffy protective suit and raised a flamethrower above his head. The second, dressed in metal armor, had a huge right hand, ending in long claws. Damian thought it was a mutation before he saw that it was actually a Deathclaw hand, transformed into a glove for combat.

The commentator finished his presentation of the two gladiators, adulated by the crowd, and the door of Damian's enclosure opened as the radioactive casks fell from the dome. He automatically raised his weapon and aimed at his opponent with the flamethrower. Damian pulled the trigger. He heard a small click. No rounds ejected from the weapon. He pulled the breech and looked inside.

His gun was empty. He turned around and saw, at the end of the pipe, Faydra giving him a little smile and waving in her hand what looked like a 12-gauge shell.

"Bitch..." Damian said.

He had completely forgotten to check his gun before entering the arena. Now he found himself unarmed in front of two opponents, able to cut him to pieces or burn him alive.

Brother Bear with the Deathclaw hand moved quietly towards him, while the one with the flamethrower remained in the center of the arena and continued to excite the crowd.

He raised his arm and struck Damian, who parried the hit with his gun. The claws of the Deathclaw gauntlet got caught in the butt of the rifle. Brother Bear growled and pulled with all his strength while Damian pulled on his side as well. He dropped the weapon and his opponent, driven by his own strength, staggered backwards.

Brother Bear regained his balance and tried to remove the rifle stuck in his gauntlet. He raised his head and saw Damian's fist crashing into his face. He swung back and fell to the ground.

The second brother had stopped exciting the crowd and turned to Damian. When he saw him running towards him, he raised his flamethrower. Damian dove towards him and threw him to the ground. Brother Bear with the flamethrower got up and tried to move away to activate his weapons, without risking catching fire at the same time.

Damian stayed as close to him as he could. He punched his opponent in the jaw and knocked him to the ground. Brother Bear fell headfirst into a puddle of radioactive liquid. He let out a terrible scream as Damian crushed his foot in his face. Brother Bear fell into the puddle of radioactive goo.

Damian turned around and saw that Brother Bear with the Deathclaw gauntlet was still able to fight. He had managed to get the weapon out of his gauntlet and was now running at Damian, raising his arm to slash him. Damian looked around him. He grabbed the second Brother Bear's flamethrower and pointed it at his assailant.

His opponent's eyes lit up with terror. Damian pulled the trigger and a long tongue of fire stretched out to encompass Brother Bear. He tried to scream, but all the oxygen around him and in his lungs had been consumed by the flames. He staggered and waved his arms in an attempt to extinguish the flames before falling to the ground.

The silence that had gripped the crowd gave way to applause and exclamations of joy. The commentator could hardly believe what he had just seen and was struggling to find the words to present Damian as the winner of the fight.

Damian returned to Faydra.

"No romantic holding hands this time?" she smiled.

Damian stared at her

"Oh, come on, don't make that face," the young woman said. "You're alive and they're not."

"I still have one fight left. I want to do it. Now," whistled Damian.

Faydra looked at him for a moment. She turned her head towards a man Damian had not noticed until then. It was the man who had given Ashur the megaphone and who seemed to follow him everywhere. He had a haircut similar to the other slavers, with a goatee, he wore only black shorts and a bullet belt around his waist, rangers and a metal harness his bare chest. Surprisingly, there was almost no evidence of the disease on his body.

He looked at Faydra and nodded, as if to give his consent. The young woman turned towards Damian.

"This is your last fight, scab," she said in a rather solemn tone that intrigued Damian. "If you are victorious, you'll have won your freedom and I'll never call you that again."

Damian thought he saw a slight friendly smile on the woman's scarred face. He didn't care what she might think of him. All he cared about was winning the next fight, to meet Ashur, get the cure and get rid of the slavers.

"Okay," said Faydra. "Your opponent is Gruber. One of the few to win in the arena as a slave, and now he's a full-time gladiator, which makes me thinks he must be loving the smell of blood. Unfortunately for you, he's quite a good shot."

She gave Damian a Chinese assault rifle. This time, Damian checked the gun and the magazine.

"Oh, come on, don't tell me you're mad at me for trying to make the fight more entertaining," said Faydra feigning sadness. "Don't worry, these are real bullets, just don't test them on me."

She put her hand on her rifle and Damian saw the other slaver imitate her.

"Come on, get in the arena. Gruber's should be there any minute."

Damian took one last look at the two slavers and returned to the arena. The bodies of the Bear Brothers had been removed, along with the radioactive barrels. Only the smell of burning flesh remained in the arena, as well as traces of blood on the walls and the floor.

The door of the enclosure opened. No radioactive drums fell out. The crowd above him chanted the name of his opponent. Damian heard a slight slap and felt something graze his ear.

He pressed himself against a cinder block wall. A bullet whistled beside him. Damian did not hear any gunshot. He looked around, looking for his opponent. Hidden in the darkness, sheltered behind a sandbag wall, a man in a dark metal suit and a motorcycle helmet hiding his face pointed an R91 assault rifle at him. The rifle was equipped with a silencer and a scope and its stock was retractable. He fired at Damian who dove for cover. He fired a blind burst and quickly raised his head.

His opponent had changed his position. Damian got up and ran to another shelter. He tried to find his way by sound, but the exclamations of the crowd, combined with the fact that his opponent was using a silencer and the pounding of the machines, made it impossible to locate his opponent.

Damian saw movement in his peripheral vision. He aimed his weapon and saw that it was just a stone rolling on the ground. A bullet whistled in his ears. He switched to automatic fire and fired several bursts blindly into the arena.

A second bullet slammed close to him. Damian got up and fired. He heard a squeak and saw Gruber stiffen and fall backwards.

"Gruber... Gruber falls!" the commentator shouted in disbelief. "Gruber falls! A new slave is coming out of the gutter to join us! Hail to our new champion!"

Damian approached Gruber's corpse. The man was dead and still held his assault rifle in his hands. Damian tore it from his hands and inspected the weapon. It was a little lighter than a standard R91 and was painted black. He took the weapon with him and went back to Faydra.

The young woman greeted Damian with an admiring smile. The second slaver, wearing shorts with his leather harness around his chest, approached Damian.

"Good work," he said. "You've only been here less than a day and you survived the Trogs in the ruins of the Steelyard and three fights in the arena. I think we can make something of you."

"I want to see Ashur," Damian said.

The man seemed neither surprised nor angry and answered with a slight smirk.

"You will. He asked to see you anyway. You'll find him in Haven."

"And how do I get there?"

"The boys will show you. Oh, one more thing, now that you're not one of the slaves anymore, get yourself some better clothes. You'll find some stuff in that crate."

He pointed to a military canteen on the floor behind him. He left the room with Faydra, leaving Damian alone. He opened the canteen. Inside, Damian found dirty jeans and a t-shirt with a hole in it, probably taken from a dead body.

He put on his new clothes and went back to the Mill. All activity in the factory had stopped. Only the pounding of the presses continued to resound. The slavers stared at Damian and exchanged a few words in a low voice, while the slaves looked at him with envy.

Two slavers approached him.

"Ashur is waiting for you, and it's best not to keep him waiting."

Damian put Grubber's gun on his shoulder and followed them through the Mill to a checkpoint in the factory, consisting of scaffolding and a fence. The guard unlocked the door and stepped aside to let Damian and his escort through. On the other side was one of the emergencies exit of the factory.

The exit led to a small alley that ended to a main street. This district, located just behind the factory, was mainly composed of apartment buildings and shops more or less destroyed. Several ramps and scaffolding made it possible to leave the street level and climb along the facades of the buildings and enter the interior.

"Welcome to Uptown," commented one of the slavers accompanying Damian.

They climbed up until they entered one of the buildings. The slavers had rearranged the place into a pantry and dormitory. Many of the slavers, both men and women, slept on bunk beds or mattresses on the floor. Some smoked a cigarette while drinking a beer and chatted quietly while watching the ruined city, while others gathered around a small table and played cards.

A large system of suspension bridges, made of metal or wood, allowed people to cross the streets and go from one building to another. Damian noticed large spotlights on the roofs of the buildings, which lit up the streets below or the collapsed buildings, preventing the Trogs from sneaking into town.

The degenerative disease that turned people into Trogs was accompanied by acute photophobia, and the people of Pitt made sure they always had a powerful light on to cover the entrances to their town against mutants.

They walked past a bar on the roof of a building. There, the slavers sat at the counter and chatted happily, boasting of their shooting skills, while a couple of slavers sat on an old brown couch and chatted, holding hands and smiling at each other.

Damian found this vision quite strange. To him, the mere fact that people like slavers, Raiders, or soldiers of the Enclave could behave like normal people and have a romantic relationship was inconceivable. He had always seen them, as inhuman beings, whose only occupation was to kill or torture others, and to see these two slavers like that made a strange impression on him.

The Great War had put an end to many things. In Pitt, the society Ashur had established was similar to a feudal system. The slaves, the lowest stratum of this society, lived in Downtown, under the control of the slavers, the middle class, who obeyed Ashur, the Lord of Pitt. The symbolism was even stronger, since the slaves lived on the ground floors of the buildings in Pitt, while the slavers occupied the upper floors of a different district.

This image of a post-nuclear feudal society was confirmed to Damian when he arrived in front of the Palace of Ashur.

Situated on the other side of a main street crossed by a tramway line, the fiefdom of Ashur stood opposite of him. A large concrete tower, illuminated by a few spotlights, erected in front of a large square, surrounded by a large gate. The building had been spared by the bombs and only a few small pieces of the facade were damaged. The place looked like a fortified castle and Damian noticed several lit windows in the upper floors. Ashur must surely have been at one of these windows contemplating his empire and dreaming of the day when he would rebuild civilization.

At the front door of the building, a strange statue of humanoid shape, kneeling, with its bust raised to the sky.

The statue was an amalgam of chains, pieces of wood and ropes. Two pipes, spitting out flames at regular intervals, revealed the inside of the statue. Human remains had been trapped inside and blood was slowly oozing to the ground.

Damian went around the statue with his escort, under the curious eyes of the guards who patrolled the area, and entered the building.

Ashur's palace must have been an old hotel before the war. The entrance hall was lined with large black marble columns supporting several balconies. The entrance was empty, except for a few slavers who stood guard near the front door and an elevator, located at the back of the room.

The slavers escorted Damian to the elevator and took him inside. They pressed a button and the doors closed on him and he felt the elevator start moving.

The climb lasted several minutes, during which Damian tried to think about how to get hold of the cure.

The elevator came to a standstill and the doors creaked open into a long corridor. Two slavers were standing in the corridor.

"Lord Ashur will see you in a bit. Just wait by his office door."

They pointed Damian to the other end of the corridor before resuming their discussion. Damian stopped near a double door that was open. Inside the room were two display racks with the remains of two marble statues. Between the two pedestals and in front of a sculpture of a human head carved into the wall was a desk where piles of files or reports were piled up.

The Lord and Master of Pitt was a black man in his fifties, with a thick grey goatee. His face was wrinkled and bore the weight of years and many battles.

Ashur stood behind the desk, in his imposing, tribal-designed power armor. In addition to the Brahmin skull replacing one of the shoulder pads, Damian noticed that he had painted the breastplate and other parts of the armor yellow and that a human skull adorned a leather belt at the crotch.

He was talking to a slaver, the same one Damian had seen in the arena, with his bullet belt and shorts. They were both in a rather heated discussion and Damian had no trouble understanding what they were arguing about.

"Krenshaw," Ashur sighed visibly annoyed. "I'm telling you I've got it under control."

The one called Krenshaw brutally put his hands on the desk.

"Sir!" he exclaimed. "Wernher is back, I'm sure of it. My men patrolling outside town have seen him someone resembling him in the Steelyard. Some guards have reported conversations between the slaves about him and we lost contact with our team sent to the Capital Wasteland."

"'_Workers'_," Ashur said as if he corrected Krenshaw's speech.

"What?"

"They are _'workers'_, not _'slaves'_," Ashur replied. "It's good for morale and it reminds them that one day they can be free."

"Whatever their name is," the slaver hissed. "Tools have been stolen in the Mill, same for ammo and theses axes they use can very well be used as makeshifts weapons. If they decide to use them against us, it will end bad, for both of us."

Ashur sighed and massaged his temples.

"All right," he finally said. "Put your men on alert in the Mill and in Downtown and pass the word to those guarding the gate and access to Uptown. Tell them to keep an eye on the ones who are being a little too lazy. And keep an eye on Midea. If something's gonna happen, it's gonna have to go through her."

He looked over Krenshaw's shoulder and glanced briefly at Damian.

"I have an important meeting, so if something happens, use the intercom to let me know."

The slaver muttered an answer and walked away from the office and passed Damian before heading for the elevator.

"Come in, young man," Ashur's voice said.

Damian entered the office slowly. He spotted two doors on either side of the large room, and two automatic turrets in the corners of the room on the ceiling.

Ashur plunged his piercing blue eyes into Damian's and he immediately understood how this man had been able to reign over Pitt for two decades.

"Here is the new champion of the arena," Ashur said as he stared at Damian. "I have a lot of questions for you."

* * *

**I was always a little bothered about the fights in the Hole. You fight your way in the arena to regain your freedom to help the slaves afterward, but you have to kill some slaves to do it. Weren't they supposed to be aware of Wernher's plan?**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed and until next time.**


	53. Chapter 53: The most moral thing to do

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Today, we end the Pitt DLC arc.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

Ashur possessed an undeniable charisma and Damian had difficulty supporting his gaze. The Lord of Pitt remained silent for a few seconds, observing the young man before starting to speak again.

"You are no ordinary young man," he said. "You showed some sympathy in the Hole. You fight like a soldier, you triumph over my best gladiators without a single scratch and your arrival here comes at an… Interesting time. Hence the question, which burns my lips: Who are you really and what are you doing in my city?"

Damian felt that Ashur knew that he was not a slave, captured by his men or sold by Paradise Falls and that he had come here by his own will. He felt as if the Lord of Pitt was playing with him, like a cat plays with a mouse before killing it.

"It's quite complicated," Damian said. "Let's just say I'm going where the odds take me."

"I see..." Ashur replied, slightly suspicious and unconvinced. "Allow me to tell you that you've stumbled upon a place out of the ordinary. Pitt has a powerful army, a thriving industry, and soon perhaps we will be able to boast a cure for radiation. But, perfect as it may sound, there's still a shadow in the sky."

Ashur moved slowly to the side and glanced at one of the reports on his desk.

"Tell me, do you know a man named Wernher?"

The tone Ashur had used and the expression on his face left no room for doubt. He knew that Damian had entered thanks to Wernher to help him free the slaves and steal the cure, and his eyes shone with the desire to see Damian lie to him and to be able to take his words apart one by one.

"Yes," Damian replied, who saw no point in lying.

"I appreciate your honesty," answered Ashur who seemed strangely calm. "It's such a rare virtue these days."

He faced the head sculpture behind him and continued talking.

"Wernher must surely have made you an offer to free the slaves, with a lot of talk about oppression and freedom."

Ashur glanced over his shoulder at Damian, waiting for a reaction or for Damian to contradict him.

"I suppose he must also have told you that he was my right-hand man and that after he tried to overthrow me, he became suddenly interested in the slaves condition and fate, given the fact that he was one of them."

When he saw Damian's troubled expression, a small grin appeared on Ashur's lips.

"I see that dear Wernher has been impeccably honest with you," he said. "So, what do you intend to do? Do you intend to continue working for a liar, or do you choose to join me and my army? I hope that you will continue to be honest with me, and that the two automatic turrets behind you will not influence your answer."

"Even if what you say is true," Damian said. "I don't care. You and your men have enslaved hundreds of people and you exploit them, why? For the crazy dream of rebuilding a civilization at the image of the pre-war one, the same one that throw us into atomic flames and caused the near extermination of the human race?"

"I offered these men and women a home, security and a future," Ashur replied.

"By enslaving them?" Damian cried.

The unpleasant sensation of feeling the automatic turrets pointing at his back commanded him to shut up. Ashur did not seem to be upset and even seemed to enjoy this verbal joust with him.

"You are committing horrible acts and justifying yourself by claiming that you are acting for the greater good of these people."

"I see you've made your choice," Ashur said sadly turning to Damian. "Before ending this conversation, I would like to know what offer dear Wernher has made you."

"I've agreed to work with him to free the slaves at Pitt with the cure you spoke of. How could I refuse?

"It's very simple, Ashur smiles. You can still say no, because once again Wernher has lied to you. This discovery is a miracle, it's true, but not the kind that can free a people from slavery."

He stared at Damian, who could hardly believe that he had been manipulated so easily, for a brief moment before speaking again.

"Everything would be so much easier if..."

The intercom on Ashur's desk whistled and Krenshaw's voice came out.

"'_Lord Ashur! The slaves revolt! They have weapons and have already taken control of Downtown! You must come, and quickly!'_"

Ashur's face displayed an expression of incomprehension. He must not have foreseen the slaves would revolt so quickly. Gunshots came to them from outside the building. The two slavers standing guard in the corridor burst into the office.

"You two," Ashur cried, pointing at them. "Stay here and stand guard, I'll come down and sort things out."

He grabbed a shotgun and turned towards Damian.

"If you're so anxious to find out the truth before you decide, why don't you check the lab next door? We'll see if Wernher's speech and the morality you seem to be demonstrating will still be relevant afterwards."

Ashur ran to the hallway and the elevator. The two slavers looked at Damian, not quite understanding what was going on. Damian walked to one of the rooms adjacent to the office. He crossed a small corridor and entered a small laboratory.

The place was occupied by several monitors and computer consoles and a work surface with several test tubes and chemistry equipment.

A woman was in the laboratory, sitting at a desk and copying handwritten notes onto a computer. She turned her head towards Damian. Of Hispanic descent, she had black hair cut short and amber eyes and was wearing a white blouse over a blue shirt and black skirt.

"Oh, hello," she said surprised before giving a shy smile at Damian. "I didn't expect Ashur to let anyone into the lab. Excuse the mess, I'm quite busy with my research and I don't really have time to clean."

She stood up and approached Damian.

"My name is Sandra. Knowing my husband, he must have asked you to join us, right?"

"Your... Husband?" Damian asked.

"Oh, yes, sorry. I'm Ishmael's wife, well, Ashur's."

"You're Ashur's wife?" Damian asked puzzled.

"Yes," Sandra smiled. "It's true that it may be hard to believe that under this thick old power armor hides a man capable of love, but it's the truth. He and I are husband and wife."

Damian heard a little hiccup coming from the lab. Sandra turned around and walked to a small table next to the desk. On the table was a small cradle connected to various medical monitoring devices.

"You must be here to see our little miracle?" asked Sandra. "Come."

Damian approached and remained silent before what he saw. In the cradle slept an infant, carefully swaddled in white cloth.

"Look, Marie, we have a visitor," Sandra smiled.

Damian blinked several times. The baby was very real, and he never imagined he would see one in a place like this.

"This little baby you see is our daughter, Marie."

Sandra looked at the baby and a huge smile lit up her face. She stroked the baby's forehead and kissed her daughter on the cheek.

"What... What is this baby doing here in this laboratory?"

"Oh, actually, it's as much a nursery as it is a laboratory. If we ever want Marie to be able to take care of the city one day, we have to take care of her first."

"Wait, you mean the cure for radiation and Trogs disease is your daughter?"

"Yes. Didn't Ishmael tell you about that?"

Damian stared at the infant in the cradle. Wernher had lied to him all the way, or rather, he had deliberately not mentioned the fact that the cure for the disease ravaging Pitt was a baby, let alone that it was the child of the Lord of Pitt. He understood why Ashur had insisted that he go to the laboratory."

"So, your daughter has a natural immunity to mutations," Damian said.

"Yes," Sandra replied. "Our little angel already has her temper, but one day she will heal the whole town. And if I can figure out the reason for her immunity, then maybe I'll find the key to the Trog problem, and maybe even more mutations!"

Damian looked again at little Marie and the machines around him in the lab.

"You're experimenting on your own kid?" he cried.

"No, no!" Sandra cried out in turn. "I would never do anything to endanger Marie's health. All these machines are there to observe her vital signs and store data for a day, to discover a complete vaccine against Trog Degeneration. If finding a cure means putting Marie's life in danger, then I will stop everything!"

Damian took a few steps back. All these efforts to free the slaves were based on Wernher's lies and assumptions. Apart from the fact that Wernher had not told him anything about the _"state"_ of the cure, the chances of the cure ever becoming a reality were close to zero.

Sandra and Ashur would never harm their daughter, Damian had clearly seen this, and they would put the welfare of their child before the discovery of the cure, thereby condemning the scientific advance it would represent.

"Are you sure you can synthesize a cure to eradicate the mutations based on your daughter's immunity?" Damian asked.

Sandra watched him a little taken aback by the question.

"Well, to be frank, I don't know until I've done further tests on Marie, tests that I refuse to do on her while she's a baby."

Damian ran his hand across his face. Even the cure itself was not certain. Marie's immunity might well be impossible to exploit on a larger scale, and there was no proof that this baby would not eventually turn into a Trog or become sick like all the people of Pitt.

Heavy footsteps resounded in the corridor. Ashur appeared in the laboratory, a large gash on his face.

"Ishmael?" cried Sandra. "What's going on? Are you hurt?"

"Sandra, you have to go! Take Marie with you and get out of town!"

"But I..."

"Don't argue!"

Sandra nodded in silent and grabbed everything she needed for her daughter and threw it in a duffel bag, before grabbing her daughter.

"You," Ashur spat to Damian. "What's your decision? Quick!"

Damian looked at Sandra and the baby. All hope to cure the Trog disease was just one big gamble, but even if there was one percent of success, he could not resolve himself in kidnaping a little girl.

"You should leave with your daughter," Damian said. "I came here to save the slaves from you and your army, not to kidnap a little girl."

Gunshots rang out outside the building. Awakened by the shooting and screaming, the baby began to cry. One of the slavers guarding the elevator entered the cradle.

"Sir! The slaves have broken out of Downtown by using abandoned buildings! They also shut the lights! Trogs are attacking the outside perimeter!"

Ashur seemed to forgot Damian and turned toward the man and barked some orders. The slaver nodded and ran to the elevator. Ashur looked at his family and sighed. He gently pulled Sandra next to him and they ran to the elevator.

Damian followed them. He was not going to help Wernher anymore, yet, he was not going to help Ashur either. Slaves were revolting and they were winning. Soon, the slaver army would be nothing but an unpleasant memory. With Marie gone, Wernher would have to reason to claim power in Pitt and as the slaves would have gain their freedom, they would scatter to the Wastes, free. All he was going to do, was make sure that Sandra and her daughter could make it to a safe place. Even though it meant he would have to kill some of the revolting slaves.

Damian saw the slavers guarding the elevator, motioning and begging Ashur to come quick. A detonation resounded and Damian saw the elevator cabin fall. Among the squeak and tattle of the metal cables, he could hear the panicked screams of the slavers inside, before a loud bang announced that the elevator had crashed to the ground floor.

"Holly fuck!" cried the last slaver guard. "They blew up the elevator."

"The stairs, this way," Ashur said in a calm voice.

He briefly glanced behind his shoulder at Damian. Damian knew that Ashur wanted to kill him, but the urge to put his family in a safe place was more important.

The Lord of Pitt opened a door and pointed his rifle in the staircase and Damian could not help but see the behavior of a highly trained soldier.

Damian, Ashur, his family and the slaver guard climbed down the old staircase and finally arrived on the ground floor.

The slaver opened the door and Damian saw that they were on the mezzanine overlooking the entrance of Ashur's palace. The slaver turned toward them, and Damian heard a gunshot and saw the slaver stiffened and fall to the ground, the top of his head exploded by a bullet.

Ashur pointed his weapon toward the assailant and Damian saw him fall to the ground in a grunt. Sandra screamed her husband name and rushed toward him, still holding Marie in her arms.

Damian heard laughter and footsteps. Wernher, a triumphant look on his face and flanked by several slaves with assault rifles or pistols, and Midea approached them.

He turned to Damian and frowned for a moment before throwing a duffel bag at him.

"Here, your stuff's in it," he said turning his attention on Ashur.

The Pitt Master was sitting on the ground in his large power armor, and Damian noticed that the armor on his leg was crushed and that blood was coming out.

Damian hesitated briefly and opened the bag. His Ranger armor and weapons were there.

"Wernher," Ashur grinned. "I should have killed you myself when I had the chance."

"Shut up," spat out the slave leader.

He glanced at Sandra and the baby before raising his head to Damian.

"All right, get the cure and let's get out of here."

"You never told me about kidnapping a child!" Damian cried out.

"What? Of course I didn't tell you! If I had explained it all to you, you would never have agreed to help me!"

"I agreed to help free the slaves, not to kidnap a little girl!"

"A little girl that owns the cure to our freedom from the Trog disease! What do you think? They'll only use the cure for them, while we, we will die or change in Trogs!"

"Did you know about it?" Damian asked Midea.

"Enough talk," Wernher cut out. "Midea, take the kid."

The woman approached Sandra who was holding her daughter against her.

"If you dare touch her, I'll make sure to keep you alive enough so that Marie is old enough to target practice on you!" yelled the mother.

"Shut up, Sandra!" shouted Werhner. "Give her the damn kid!"

"Think about what you're doing Midea," Damian said. Are you really going to take away a baby from its parents?"

"We're not going to hurt her," the woman replied. "Besides, what kind of parents are Ashur and Sandra? With parents like them, this baby will grow up to become a slaver and a Raider! We only need her to win our freedom. It's the only way."

"You rebelled, didn't you? You could have left, all of you, and you're still here, trying to take this child? Why are you still here?"

"Pitt is our home! You're an outsider, you can't understand us!" yelled one of the slaves.

"A home? Just look around you! A disease-ridden ruined city is not what I call a home!"

Midea hesitated for a moment. The other slaves looked at each other, confused. Wernher clenched his jaw and pointed his gun at Damian.

"Shut up!" he said. "Midea, take the fucking kid and let's get out of here!"

"Look at her, Midea," Damian said. "Is this really what you want? You want to take a child away from its parents? There's no guarantee that his immunity to Trog disease will work. And even if it does, are you, or any of you, capable of developing a cure?"

"The only way to find out is to take this kid and test her," Wernher cried out. "Now take that fucking baby!"

Midea bit her lip. Wernher pushed her and approached Sandra.

"You always have to do everything yourself. If I hadn't told you about the cure and organized the revolt, you'd still be working your ass off for those bastards."

Sandra held Mary tighter against her.

"Give me the baby, Sandra!"

Wernher grabbed Sandra's arm and pulled to make her let go.

"No, don't touch her!" shouted Ashur.

"Wernher stop!" one of the slaves shouted. "Fuck the cure! Let's just get out of here!"

"Not funny anymore, uh, Sandra? Now that it's your kid that's being taken away!" shouted Werhner.

Sandra bit Werhner's arm who let out a hiccup of pain. He hit her on the head and tried to pull his arm away. Damian dove towards him and pinned him to the ground. Ashur grabbed his rifle and shot one of the slaves, shattering his chest in pieces. Midea retreated and took cover from the gunshots. The other slaves did not know what to do. Several of them dropped down their weapons and left, while others tried to take shelter from Ashur, who rained a flood of lead down on them.

Damian and Wernher rolled to the ground struggling. Wernher pushed Damian back. He raised his gun, but Damian managed to kick the weapon out of his hand. Werhner got up and reached for a gun dropped by the slaves. Damian grabbed his ankle and made him fall on the ground. Werhner kicked him in the face. Damian took his nose between his hands, as a reflex and got up. When he opened his eyes, he saw Werhner arming is fist and punching him in the chin.

He heard multiple gunshots and screams. A bullet whistled next to Wernher who looked behind his shoulder. Damian took advantage of the man's blind spot and his eyepatch and charged.

Wernher received Damian's fist in the jaw and stumbled to the ground. Damian moved toward him but froze, seeing that Wernher had grabbed the silenced and scoped R91 Damian was carrying. Damian grabbed the weapon's barrel and struggled with Wernher to disarm him.

"Wernher!"

Damian recognized Ashur's voice. Wernher hit Damian's nose with his forehead. Damian stumbled and felt the balustrade of the mezzanine in his back.

Damian felt a tremor in his chest and all the air in his lungs were forces out. He felt something falling on top of him and the second after, Damian felt the balustrade behind him broke and he fell.

Damian slowly opened his eyes. His head was spinning and aching, just like his chest, legs, and basically every part of his body. Above him, the black ceiling of a great room and chandeliers. He blinked several times and tried to get up when he felt something heavy on him. Damian looked over his chest and saw Wernher, laying down on him. Damian tried to push Wernher away and felt something sticky on his hands. Damian pulled back his hand and noticed that it was covered in blood.

Damian started to feel his heart race, thinking that it was his blood. He pushed Wernher away, who rolled to the side. Damian put his hand between his chest and the breast plate of his armor. He removed it and inspected it. His hand was bloody, but Damian had not felt any hole.

His chest was aching, and he had trouble to breath. Damian ran his hand on his armor and felt several little bumps. Damian looked down on his chest and saw that the little bumps where crashed buckshot marbles.

He rolled to the side and heard the buckshot fell on the tilled floor. Damian looked around him. The first thing he saw, was Wernher, laying on his stomach. His eye was open and staring at the blank and Damian noticed holes in his back and blood coming out.

Around him were other bodies. Some were slaves, judging by their rags, other were members of Ashur's army, at least that what Damian thought. They were stripped of some of their clothes and boots and they all had that Raider-look and haircut.

Damian got up painfully and felt his head spin. The place where he was, which he recognized as the entrance of Ashur's palace, was spinning and Damian took a minute to regain control and let the dizziness pass.

He slowly looked up and saw the broken balustrade. He looked down to Wernher's corpse and everything came back to his mind.

He was struggling with Wernher when Ashur yelled is name. The slave had turned around and Ashur had shot him. The buckshot had pierced through Wernher's flesh and had come out in his back, hitting Damian in the chest. If the buckshot hadn't passed through Wernher's body before, Damian would have been killed, with or without his combat armor.

Everything around was silent. The gunshots in Pitt had stopped, just like Marie's cries. Damian slowly looked up, toward the broken balustrade. He limped his way up the stairs and arrived in front of other corpses. Among them, Ashur and Sandra.

Ashur was resting against a wall, his power armor pierced in some places and Sandra had collapsed on her husband's legs and her lab coat was stained with blood. Damian did not understand, until he noticed the R91 and 5.56 casings at his feet.

When Wernher had been killed, he had probably pulled the trigger before falling on Damian. Or maybe he had been quicker than Ashur and had shot first, killing both the Lord of Pitt and his wife.

Damian looked around him. There was no sign of Marie. He also noticed that Midea was gone and he assumed that while he was unconscious, she had probably taken the baby. Unless…

Damian turned toward Sandra and Ashur. Slowly, he limped toward the woman and crouched next to her. Damian hesitated for a moment. He heard muffled sound coming from under her.

Damian pushed Sandra's body away and discovered Marie, swaddled in her cloth, stained by her mother's blood.

When Damian pushed Sandra's body, Marie started to moan and cry. Gently, Damian grabbed the baby girl.

He had absolutely no idea on how to deal with children. There were no baby in Vault 101 and it was actually the first infant he ever saw. Damian did the first thing that came through his mind; talk.

"Hey there, Marie, don't cry. It's over."

He was holding the baby girl at arm's length and glanced around him, nervous that the cries would attract someone, or more specifically, Trogs.

Damian looked down at Marie's parents and at the little girl. The poor little girl was now alone. An orphan like many other in the Wasteland.

"Shhh, it's over Marie, it's over."

Damian rocked the little girl in his arms. Slowly, the baby stopped crying and fell asleep. He looked around him, once more. Ashur's Empire had crumbled to pieces. The city was dead silent. With Wernher dead, and Midea gone, probably after seeing Marie in her bloody cloth and thinking she was dead, the slaves had probably left the city. Ashur's men that weren't dead had probably flee. Pitt had become a ghost ruined city.

Damian's mission of liberating the slaves was a success, but he had a bitter taste in his mouth. And he was angry at himself.

The square in front of Ashur's palace was filled with the corpses of slaves and slavers. The white lights that lit up the streets and buildings had mostly been destroyed, and Damian could see the silhouettes of several Trogs, cautiously advancing down the street from the destroyed buildings and dragging back the corpses in the darkness of the ruins.

The slaves were free. The Empire of Ashur and the slaver was no more. Yet, Damian had a bitter taste in his mouth.

He had done very little to help the slaves gain their freedom. In the end, when he had the opportunity to grab the cure and give it to Midea and Wernher, he refused. By doing so, he had chosen to put the well-being of a single person, against the freedom of thousands.

Hurting Marie, or more generally a child was Something that Damian knew he was incapable of, and one of his worst fear was that, one day, he would come across a Raider gang with children that would try to kill him.

He could not let go the idea that, by refusing to kidnap Marie and the cure, he had sided with Ashur.

Damian sighed and gently put Marie on the ground. He unwrapped grabbed his knife and cut through the t-shirt of a dead slaver that he wrapped across his chest to put Marie inside. Then, he grabbed the bag that Sandra had prepared and put everything in his bag, before grabbing his assault rifle and the silenced and scoped R91 and leaving the building.

The square in front of Ashur's palace was littered with dead bodies, of slavers, slaves and even some Trogs. Damian walked through Uptown and could hear the Trogs in the buildings around. Some had come out and were watching Damian from afar. Damian placed his hand on Marie and kept an eye on the Trogs that, fortunately, were more interested by the dead bodies in the street than by him or the baby girl.

Damian felt a shiver ran down his spine. The whole city was silent. Even the banging of the Mill's machines had ceased.

Around him, some Trogs were crawling out of the ruins and started to grab the dead to drag them back in a building and eat them in peace.

On his way toward the bridge, Damian saw several dead slavers, lined up against the walls of buildings on which a dark stain of blood was dripping. Among them, Damian saw Faydra and the lovers he had seen on the building roof in Uptown.

The slaves had unleashed all their hatred toward their captors and had executed them, before stripping them of their boots and clothes.

As he walked, Damian was starting to think and analyze the whole story.

Wernher was a bad man, whose only motivation was power. He was only interested in the cure and Marie because she would have given him an advantage over Ashur. If the latter had tell Damian the truth, then Wernher had already tried to seize the throne of Pitt in the past, which had led him to side with the slaves, of whom he himself had been one of the torturers in the past.

He had lied to Damian and had not revealed his entire plan to him. He had lied to the slaves, telling them that the remedy in Marie's blood was a reality, whereas it was only a hypothesis.

In the event that Wernher had seized Marie, nothing was certain about his ability to develop a remedy from her blood, and he could very well have used it as a means of pressure on the slaves, promising them that one day they would be free of the Trogs disease and that they would just have to be patient and their conditions would not have improved an inch.

Ashur too was a bad man. Although Damian knew nothing about him, he could see the obsession that was eating Ashur, and that had driven him to settle in Pitt, one of the most inhospitable places in the Wasteland. The obsession that had made him one of the most powerful warlords in the Wastes, and had driven him to enslave hundreds, perhaps even thousands of people in order to rebuild a dead city.

Both Wernher and Ashur were prepared to commit atrocious and inhuman acts, and to justify them by claiming that their cause was just. Ripping a child from his parents against the liberation of a people, and the enslavement of hundreds of people against the reconstruction of civilization.

Damian hated them both. Wernher, for lying to him and having an interest in the slaves only because he had become one of them, and Ashur, because his obsession had made him the greatest warlord of the Wasteland and a slaver. And Damian hated himself, for refusing to kidnap little Marie, and thereby condemning the slaves.

Damian had acted in exactly the same way as his father had done twenty years ago.

James had made the choice to abandon Project Purity, and by extension, the future of the inhabitants of the Capital Wasteland, in order to offer only one person, his son, a better future in Vault 101. Like his father before him, Damian had put the good of one person ahead of the good of a hundred others.

Ashur and Sandra had done the same. Had the development of the cure, which could have cured hundreds of people, presented the slightest risk to their daughter, they would have given up everything, and would have preferred to condemn the people of Pitt, and perhaps themselves, to give their daughter a future.

The line between Good and Evil, until now very clear, was gradually disappearing. The most moral choice Damian had had was to free the slaves. It was done, but not thanks to him. The slaves had freed themselves and, in the end, Damian had, by refusing to hand Marie to Werhner, sided with people he hated.

Damian arrived at the bridge and crossed it safely. No matter how hard he thought about it and turned the problem upside down, he could not find a solution. In either case, allying himself with Wernher or Ashur would have had negative consequences and every decision was of questionable morality.

The train tunnel was in front of him. Damian saw several figures. A small group of men and women were searching the freight trains next to the tunnel. They had the same outfit than the slavers, also they looked more like escaped slaves.

They noticed Damian and watched him get closer and grabbed their weapons.

"I recognize you," said one of the escaped slaves, a tall man with a brown coverall and a pistol. "You're that guy who fought his way out in the Hole and killed Gruber and the Bear Brothers."

The slaves looked at them with a smile.

"I heard Midea talk about you. She said you're one of us. We could use a guy like you."

The man frowned when he noticed the baby wrapped in cloth around Damian's chest.

"Who's baby's that? I thought all kids born in Pitt were turning Trogs hours after their birth."

"That's because it's Ashur's baby!" exclaimed one of the escaped slave women.

"If that's Ashur's, why do you…"

The escaped slaves looked at each other and at Damian.

"That baby's is the cure Wernher told us about."

The slaves started to move to surround Damian.

"Fuck the cure," said the man in the brown coverall. "That baby's Ashur's. We gonna make the bastard pay by killing his child…"

"If you touch this baby, you're a dead man."

The slaves looked at each other. Damian was staring at them. If a simple look could kill, then all the slaves would have already drop dead.

"Don't be stupid, dude. She's a slaver's child. That shit's in their brain. When she'll get old enough, she'll become a slaver, like her parents. Give her to us."

"I said that if you touch her, you're dead."

The man in the brown coverall frowned and Damian noticed that he was getting angry.

"You fuckin traitor! You're working for Ashur!"

The man grabbed his gun. Damian drew his pistol and shot. He turned his pistol toward the other slaves who had had no time to react.

Marie, awakened by the gunshots, had started to cry again. Damian holstered his pistol. He looked at the escaped slaves. They were all dead. He sighed and entered the train tunnel, comforting Marie to make her stop crying.

The tunnel stretched out in front of him. Damian lit the flashlight on his chest and swept the tunnel entrance. Luckily, the handcar he had used with Wernher was still there. Damian climbed on it and gently put Marie on one of the seats. She had stopped crying and was asleep, once again. Damian took place in front of the lever and operated it and the wheels of the handcar creaked and slipped on the rails, taking Damian into the darkness of the tunnel and to the Capital Wasteland. He activated the electric generator and two minutes later, the handcar was moving on its own.

Damian took Marie in his arms and sat down, facing the tunnel, faintly lightened by the handcar lights. Damian looked at the baby. He thought back to the slaves he killed at the train tunnel entrance. He could not let them harm Marie. He killed them. He had to kill them.

As he thought about it and looked at Marie's peaceful baby face, Damian started to cry.

Daylight was breaking through at the other end of the tunnel.

On the return trip, he had continued to reflect on the choices he had made at Pitt. Absorbed in his thoughts, Damian left the tunnel and arrived at the slaver camp. The camp was bathed in daylight and a cold, wet wind whipped his face.

Fawkes was waiting for him, along with Paladin Tristan and a strike team of the Brotherhood. Damian approached them.

"Holy hell, are you all right?" Tristan cried out.

He looked at Damian from head to toe and noticed Marie who was awake and looked like she was about to cry.

"What happened? Who's this baby?"

"It's a long story," Damian answered after a long silence.

Tristan stared at him and Marie and turned back to wave at his men.

"We're taking you back to the Citadel. You need to see a doctor and that baby too. You'll explain us everything in details when we get there."

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**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Until next time.**


	54. Chapter 54: New objective

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Today, Damian learn a bit more about Pitt**

**Glad to see some of you are enjoying the story. I have everything fully written and almost fully translated just making a few modifications here and there**

**To answer a review from Mokoloco, yes, I have plans for other Fallout fanfictions. Don't know if it will a some kind sequel, to this, some small ones or if I put everything in one big story. Been throwing ideas on papers for a while now, but first, let's focus on Damian and this story.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

"Come in."

Damian pushed the door to Lyons' office and walked in. The old Elder was sitting at his desk and finished putting away a mission report. Damian closed the door behind him.

Damian felt like a schoolboy, summoned to the principal's office after doing something stupid.

During the trip back to the Citadel, she had cried a lot and only Paladin Tristan was able to calm her.

Damian and the other Brotherhood members had watched, stunned, the old Paladin rock the little baby, sing her a lullaby and feed her.

"What? I'm one of the oldest Brotherhood members of our chapter," Tristan had said. "I've seen my loads of babies."

As soon as they had reached the Citadel, Damian and Marie had been directed to the infirmary, where a Mister Gutsy had examined both of them.

To Damian's relief, the little baby was healthy and the Mister Gutsy had not seen any problem, apart the fact that his infirmary was turning into a nursery.

In the infirmary, they had met Scribe Hood, who had come for a check-up on her leg.

The Mister Gutsy, nicknamed Sawbones had then examined Damian.

"_All right soldier, get your ass on that table and stand still."_

"I tell you I'm fine," Damian had protested.

"_You'll be fine when I'll decide it, maggot. Now sit your ass on the table!"_

The Mister Gutsy in charge of the Citadel infirmary, had tapped its claw on the table.

"_All right, maggot, stand still and don't be a pansy."_

Damian had felt the unpleasant sensation of the cold metallic claws of the robot on his arms, legs, chest and head.

Damian had a thick stain of dried blood on his head and temple. He also had faint skin lesions on his arms and chest, and the buckshot he had received had left little bruise on his chest and stomach. It seemed that his ribs were intact, but he could feel an unease every time he breathed.

While the robot was examining him, Damian had noticed that Hood was staring at him and seemed worried.

"I'm…"

"_If you ever dare say that you're fine, I'll shove my foot so far up your ass, you'll cough boot polish for the rest of your sorry life!"_ had barked the robot.

A few minutes later, Lyons had joined them. He had watched Damian from head to toe and had asked Damian to join him in his office when we would be done.

Just before leaving, the Elder had asked Tristan to come with him. The Paladin had then given Marie to Hood who had looked at the baby girl like it was some kind of weird thing.

And so, Damian was in Lyons office, with Tristan.

Lyons crossed his hands in front of his face and stared at Damian. With a sign, he invited him to take a seat in front of him. Damian pulled out the metal chair and sat. The Elder stared at him for a few more seconds before speaking.

"When Knight Danse informed us that you and the Super Mutant had gone North to investigate a mysterious radio message, at first, I thought it was an Enclave position unknown to our Intelligence services. But when we tried to contact you, and it was your... Companion, who responded and explained the situation to us, I dispatched a team of volunteers."

He got up and walked to a large map of the East Coast, which was on the wall. Damian noticed small pencil or felt markings on the map but was too far away to make them out clearly and see what they referred to.

Lyons turned to Damian. He looked at him for a few seconds before he put a kind smile on his wrinkled face.

"I can tell by your expression that you expect a punishment or a reprimand from me," said the old Elder. "Since you are not exactly a member of the Brotherhood, I cannot sanction you, and between you and me, I do not really see what I could sanction. Nevertheless, the Paladin Tristan and I, are rather curious about this story."

Lyons returned to his seat and looked into Damian's eyes.

"When Knight Danse returned to the Citadel, alone, with the Tesla Coil, he mentioned that you had gone to inspect a radio message, is that right?"

Damian nodded silently.

"At first, we thought it was an old recording, accidentally triggered by a scavenger. After twenty-four hours, seeing that you were not coming back, I decided to contact your friend Super Mutant, and after his explanation, I sent Tristan and some soldiers to meet you as backup. There are a few things I'd like to clear up. If you could tell me everything from the beginning."

Damian took a deep breath. He swept the desk with his eyes before he spoke.

"Shortly after meeting the man Tristan sent to Old Olney, we actually picked up a radio message. Going back to the source, near an old radio tower, I discovered that the message was from a man being chased by Raiders. After helping him, he told me that he had escaped from a place in the Northwest to seek help. He... He explained to me that his people were being enslaved in a place called Pitt."

Damian noticed that Lyons' and Tristan's eyes wrinkled slightly when he mentioned the name of the town. With a nod, the Elder invited Damian to continue.

Damian told him all about his adventure in Pitt, down to the smallest details.

"The man who controlled Pitt was called Ashur, and..."

"Ashur, you say?"

Tristan had just cut Damian out of his story and was staring at him with a concerned look.

"Ishmael Ashur?" the Paladin asked.

"Yes... How did you...?"

Lyons and Tristan exchanged a glance. The Elder opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a folder. The folder was quite old, and the papers in it were all yellowed. He put the file in front of him and looked at it.

"I guess you know the Brotherhood of Steel is not native of the Capital Wasteland but from a place called Lost Hills on the West Coast." Lyons said. "And that we were sent here to retrieve all the pre-war technology we could find."

"Yes, my father told me about it vaguely and I had a chance to discuss it with Sarah during a training session," Damian answered.

"My superiors in Lost Hills had also given me two other tasks. Initially, we were to travel to the Midwest and re-establish contact with a Chapter of our Order that had gone rogue, before going to Washington. Once there, we were to confirm reports from our scouts that Super Mutants were present in the ruins of the former capital of the United States, before we moved in and searched the city for pre-war technology."

Lyons paused slightly, with his eyes still on the matter in front of him.

"As contact with our Brothers in the Midwest was unsuccessful, I took the decision to move on to our second objective. When we arrived at Pitt, Lyons took over. We discovered a dead town, ravaged by radiation, disease and inhabited by Raiders, savages, mutants and cannibals. I ordered my men to purge the town."

Damian finally understood what had brought the Brotherhood to Pittsburgh on its expedition from the West.

"There were not many of us, and the Raiders and Slavers there had more firepower than we had and outnumbered us, but the chaos in that town allowed us to wipe out most of the Raiders who lived there, as well as a large number of mutants. In passing, we picked up several children, whom we took with us, some of whom later joined our ranks, like Paladin Kodiak from the Pride."

Damian know understood why the Bear Brothers and Kodiak looked alike and he suddenly felt guilty.

Lyons opened the file in front of him. Damian managed to read the first lines: _"Mission Report: Pittsburg Raid, Pennsylvania, October 2255"_.

"This raid was a resounding success for us. We were able to save several civilians, recover some technology, and annihilate a good number of mutants and Raiders, all with only one casualty. The Paladin Ishmael Ashur."

Damian was speechless. He opened his mouth without uttering a word and tried to assimilate what Lyons had just told him.

"Wait ... It's impossible…" said Damian. "The Ashur I met was alive and well!"

Lyons turned over a few pages of the file. He stopped in front of one that looked like an information sheet from one of the members of the Brotherhood. He turned the file over and presented it to Damian.

"Is this the man?" Lyons asked.

Damian looked at the little picture pinned to the card. The man in the picture was Paladin Ashur. Although he was younger and his face was not yet covered in the dirt and lesions of the Lord of Pitt, his features and his gaze were the same as those of the man Damian had met in Pitt.

Damian nodded his head in silence. He heard Lyons sigh sadly.

"The Paladin Ashur was a very good soldier and a scholar. During the raid on Pitt, he was separated from his unit by a collapse in an industrial building and was presumed dead. I'm glad to hear that he survived, but the revelations you bring me are deeply saddening."

"When I first saw him," said Damian. "He was wearing an old T-45 power armor, patched up and decorated with animal or human skulls. I didn't imagine for a moment that it could be one of yours."

"Tell me about him," said Lyons.

Damian explained to the old Elder everything he knew about Ishmael Ashur. His obsession with Pitt, his role as a warlord and slaver, his search for a cure for the disease Trog and his daughter, Marie.

"I see," Lyons said as Damian finished his story. "I understand where this little baby girl comes from."

"As much as I thought these slaves all deserved to be free and that Ashur and his men should die for what they had done, I couldn't bring myself to hurt this baby."

Lyons remained silent. The old Elder made no judgment or comment on Damian's actions at Pitt.

"Thank you for your explanations," he said, putting the file of the attack on Pitt in his office. "I'll be able to tell the scribes that Paladin Ashur is dead. Now that this story is over, I'd like to return to the subject that concerns us all. Initiate?"

The office door opened, and a young woman entered and stood at attention.

"Please tell Scribe Rothchild that I need to see him in my office."

The young woman nodded and left the office, closing the door behind her. An awkward silence settled in the room, quickly broken by someone knocking on the door.

"Come in," Lyons said.

The young initiate entered, followed by Rothchild.

"Thank you, initiate."

The young woman stood at attention and left the office and Rothchild took seat in front of Lyons.

"Before we begin, I wish to inform you that Mr. Franklin… Absence was the result of a contest of circumstance which brought him to the city of Pittsburgh."

Rothchild turned to Damian and stared at him.

"Mr. Franklin informed me that our Brother, the Paladin Ashur, had survived our raid on the city twenty years ago and had taken command of an army of Raiders and slavers.

"Ashur? Then he was alive?" Rothchild asked. "How?"

"I don't know," Damian answered. "But I can assure you it was him."

"We'll discuss this another time," Lyons cut in. "Reginald, what's the status of the data decryption?"

The scribe gave Damian one last interrogative look before clearing his throat.

"My scribes are still working on the decryption," Rothchild replied. "As for the weapon, I think we'll have developed a prototype capable of being tested in the field at the same time we decipher the data."

"Do as best you can," said Lyons. "And about this orbital weapon?"

"There's always the risk that the Enclave will launch an orbital strike against us," Tristan said. "Their main target being the Citadel, but… I think it's pretty unlikely."

"Why that?" asked Rothchild.

"I agree with Paladin Tristan," Damian said. "That's pretty unlikely that they'll use it against the Citadel, at least for now."

"If you would like to enlighten us on your opinion," Lyons said calmly.

Tristan and Damian looked at each other. They had talked about it a little while on the way back, mainly so that Damian could get the images of Marie bathing in blood, out of his mind. Tristan nodded to Damian to invite him to talk.

"The Enclave has the ability to launch an orbital strike anywhere in the Capital Wastelands. It did so against Prime, probably with the intent of destroying us, the relay station and burying any intelligence we may find inside. Prime was the only thing that gave us the upper hand in the Battle of Project Purity. He caused the Enclave to suffer heavy casualties within two weeks of the capture of Jefferson Memorial. If they still have the ability to hit us from space, I think they'll keep that ace in their sleeve for the moment."

"What makes you say that?" Lyons asked.

"The Enclave prides itself on being the last remnants of the United States Government and the US Army. Before the Great War, the Pentagon was the American military site par excellence, and I'm ready to bet anything that they will want to safeguard this relic of the old world and all the information it contains. Besides, the Brotherhood forces are scattered all around the Capital Wasteland and every day, new recruits join your ranks. If I had such a weapon at my disposal, I'd wait for all my enemy's troop to be gathered at the same place and wipe them out in one single blow."

Damian instantly thought about the fact that, in a way, he did have such power in his hand, in the form of a giant Death Ray on the spaceship. Using it to find the Enclave base, would, like their satellite, be a wild-goose chase and using the Death Ray, would attract an unwanted attention on him by the Brotherhood.

"Our friend here is right, Elder Lyons," Tristan said. "And even if they destroy the Citadel, our troops would still hold a great majority of the D.C. area and would still be a threat to them."

"It's a theory that makes sense," said Lyons, scratching his chin. "It would have been wiser for them to annihilate us right after they destroyed Prime, or during the assault on the Memorial using that orbital weapon against the Citadel, which is what I would have done if I were them."

"They may only have one of those satellites left in orbit," said Rothchild. "If that's the case, then they'll want to use it at the last moment, or as a last resort. And even if the Citadel were to be hit, I doubt that this orbital weapon would succeed in destroying the place and killing all its occupants. After all, it is a weapon far less powerful than an atomic bomb."

"I wouldn't bet too much on that, Rothchild," said the Paladin with concern. "This satellite doesn't have the destructive power of an atomic weapon, but it's best to avoid being underneath it when it fires, trust me."

There was silence in the office as Damian and the Brotherhood members pondered and analyzed what had just been said.

Damian noticed that Rothchild was glaring at the ceiling, as if he hoped to see through it and detect the Enclave weapon above their heads.

"Gentlemen," Lyons said as he rose from his chair. "I thank you. Reginald, inform me as soon as the data is deciphered, and the weapon is completed. Paladin Tristan, I want your men standing by as soon as the scribes are finished."

Rothchild, Damian and Tristan left Lyons' office. The scribe returned directly to the laboratory.

"What do you plan to do when Rothchild has located the base of the Enclave?" Damian asked.

"Elder Lyons already has a plan of attack, but I still don't know what it is or what role you and I are going to play in it. All I hope is that your hypothesis about the Enclave satellite is true. I don't feel like taking an orbital strike on the head again."

Damian and the Paladin walked down the corridor, greeting any soldiers or scribes they came across.

"What… What will happen to Marie?" Damian asked.

"Well, right now, she is with Scribe Hood. The Citadel is not a place for a baby. Ashur was a good friend of mine, you know. I'm saddened to hear that he became a warlord and slaver, but, if this baby girl is his daughter, then we will treat her as Brotherhood. Besides, it's not the first baby we see in the Citadel," he added with a slight smile to Damian.

"What will you tell her about her parents?"

"The truth. That they were slavers and Raiders, and that they loved her. You don't get to choose your family, but you get to choose who you'll become in life. We will raise her as one of ours, and, when she'll be old enough, we will let her choose her way in life. I guess that's the right thing to do."

They walked a little longer, until they reached the mess hall, a large room with wooden tables. Brotherhood soldiers, initiates and scribes were gathered in the mess hall, waiting in line with a plate to be served food by a small team of cooks.

Damian and Tristan waited in line. Damian noticed Fawkes, sitting at a table and surrounded by Brotherhood soldiers. All were looking at him in disbelief, as he used knife and fork properly, like any normal human being and Damian tried not to laugh at the soldiers' amazed faces.

"Hope seeing me, and the strike team back there did not make you feel like you were being stalked or that we came to arrest you."

"It did, kind of," Damian admitted.

"Well, sorry about that, but learning that one of our best assets, has gone missing alerted us. When Fawkes told us, you went to Pitt, I assembled a team to go and get you out of there. Unfortunately, our nearest outposts around the train tunnel were engaged by hostiles troops, so impossible to send anyone before the end of the skirmishes. We had just arrived at the tunnel when you came out."

"Sorry I made you worried," Damian said.

"Can't really blame you on going in for helping these people," answered Tristan. "But next time you decide to go on an adventure, don't go at the end of that damn desert. And warn us before coming back with a baby."

Tristan went to sit with other high-ranking officers while Damian sat next to Fawkes who had finished eating and was now reading a book.

"'_Grognak the Barbarian in the Lair of the Virgin Eater'_," read Damian on the cover. "I didn't know you were a comic-book fan."

Fawkes turned to Damian and looked at the book in his hands.

"I don't know if the me from before the transformation liked these kinds of stories," said the Super Mutant. "But I'm glad I was able to find this copy."

"Where did you get it?"

"During your coma, your friends from the Brotherhood began searching the ruins and Paladin Tristan asked me to accompany them on a mission. We searched a building that was full of such books, but I'm afraid I could only collect the only copy that was still readable."

"Too bad," said Damian, who would have loved to visit a comic book shop in the ruins of D.C.

Damian started to eat. He had no idea what was in his plate, but after eating the dog back at the Pitt and having to cook a Radroach in the train tunnel, this meal was the best he had ever ate.

"Tell me, Fawkes, how do you find the stories of Grognak?"

Damian and Fawkes had been talking for maybe an hour when a Brotherhood scribe entered the mess hall.

"Paladin Tristan! Knight Franklin! We've deciphered the data from the relay station."

Damian jumped from his seat and followed the scribe into the lab, followed by all the Brotherhood members in the mess hall. Lyons, Rothchild, members of the Pride and other Brotherhood officers were gathered in front of one of the lab computers. Damian noticed the young scribe Hood bent over one of the screens. She had probably given Marie to someone else.

"That's it!" she cried.

She typed a command on the computer and two lines of text and numbers appeared on the screen.

_"All unit Enclave units, order given to regroup on Secondary Site AAFB_

_MG 529854"_

All eyes turned to Hood who frowned and banged on the computer, in case the machine had broken.

"That's all?" said one of the soldiers of the Pride. "Two poor lines of text with numbers?"

"This thing brings up even more questions," sighed a man next to Damian.

Hood repeated in a low voice the two lines that appeared on the screen, as if pronouncing them would give them meaning.

"Wait," cried Tristan. "Could these be map coordinates?"

"It's possible," replied the young scribe.

"Can you put a map on the screen?"

Hood jumped to another computer and displayed a military map on the big monitor. She entered the coordinates and the map showed the D.C. area just before zooming in on a specific point, Southeast of the ruined capital.

The screen zoomed again and displayed a large area of land, where several buildings were indicated by squares or rectangles. In the center, what looked like a wide road crossed the terrain for several hundred meters.

"What's that?" Damian asked.

"It looks like... An airport," Tristan commented.

"Scribe Hood," said Lyons. "Check to see if the term _"AAFB"_ appears in the Citadel's databases."

The young scribe nodded and started typing on the computer. After a few minutes, she found a file and opened it.

"Sir, this is an old Air Force facility, Adams Air Force Base."

"Pretty logical, said Colvin, the Lyons' Pride sniper. "If the Enclave employs that many Vertibird, it needs an open ground big enough to land, refuel and maintain them, and an old Air Force Base is the perfect place to do that."

All turned to Lyons, who had his eyes riveted on the map.

"Rothchild, get me everything you've got on this air base from the Citadel archives. Tristan, I want you to form a reconnaissance team. We need to know if this base is the last stronghold of the Enclave and what to expect. Notify me as soon as they are ready to leave."

Everyone began to get to work. Damian watched them quietly.

"How long does it take to go to that base from here?" asked Damian.

"I don't know," admitted Hood. "I'd say, a few days, hard to tell."

She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair and Damian could hear her mumble while she stared at the screen. Seeing this, Damian thought back at when she was talking to herself in the Wastes when she had realized that they could access Vault 87 through the Lamplight caves. He too had the tendency of doing it in some occasion, but the only person apart Hood he knew to do it like this, was Amata.

"What?" the young woman asked after she noticed Damian's smile.

"No, nothing. It's just that seeing you mumble to yourself like this, made me think to a friend of mine. She too has the habit of doing so every time she faces a problem."

"Well, you should tell her to watch out. I know from experience people hate it when I do it."

Damian chuckled. He clearly remembered how some of the other kids in the Vault where annoyed to hear Amata mumble and think out loud at every test in the Vault classroom and he also could imagine the young scribe do it.

"You know," said Hood after a silence. "I never really had to opportunity to thank you for helping me in the caves."

"How is your leg doing?"

"Not bad, not terrible," she answered in a bitter smile. "Good thing is I'm exempted of any field mission for at least a couple days more. You probably saved my life back there."

"You would have done the same."

"No, I wouldn't," sighed the young scribe.

Damian looked at her, raising his eyebrows.

"I… I didn't mean it that way!" replied the young woman, visibly embarrassed. "What I wanted to say was that I would have certainly panic and do anything but help you, if it had happened. You and the others, you make it look so easy."

"It's not easy," Damian sighed. "First time I saw someone who needed medical assistance, I just froze."

As he spoke, Damian was remembering the time when one of his vault-coworker had severed one of his fingers during a maintenance procedure.

"Yeah, well, I still don't know why Scribe Rothchild asked me to be part of the mission. All I did was to look scare."

"Don't be too hard on yourself. Without your help, we would have probably never figured the possibility to enter Vault 87 by the caves. You did a good job in Paradise Falls. While I wanted to blast all the slavers, you played your part perfectly."

"Still, I can't get out of my head that if only I could have unlocked that terminal, then…"

She stopped and stared at the blank. Damian had no trouble guessing she was thinking about Berry.

"Where is Marie?" Damian asked to change the subject and hopefully cheer up the young woman. "Tristan told me you where taking care of her."

"The baby? Oh, right now she is with another scribe. There is no dedicated personnel for children in the Citadel, so I guess we are going to take turn taking care of her."

Hood paused and smiled.

"She's so cute," she said. "She spent an hour playing with my holotags before I had to leave her and come here."

Damian briefly looked at her and saw that she was touching her chest where her holotags where. He remembered that he had the Brotherhood soldier's ID-holotags in his pocket. He grabbed the small necklace and looked at it. The holotags belonged to a man named Wu.

"I found some Brotherhood holotag in Old Olney, what should I do with them?" he asked.

Hood looked at them and then looked in the laboratory.

"You should give them to Scribe Jameson. I think you can find her in the Citadel's A-ring. Just look for the room with the most computers in it."

She looked at the computer screen, still displaying the map and the Enclave possible base.

"That place looks huge," commented Damian.

"Just imagine how many of them there can be…" whispered Hood. "And how many of us we will lose when we attack."

She tightened her grip on her robe were her holotags were.

"Scribe Hood?" Damian said.

"Uh? Yes, what?"

"Scribe Rothchild, is asking for you," Damian said, pointing at the direction of the Head Scribe of the Brotherhood.

"Oh, uh, sorry…"

She cleared her throat and gave Damian one last look before heading to Rothchild. Damian could not help but feel sympathy for the young woman. He left the lab and headed for the A-ring of the Citadel.

There, in a large room full of computer, he found several scribes. He approached, one, a woman with blond hair, and asked her where he could find Scribe Jameson.

"Well, you are talking to her," said the woman. "What can I do for you,"

Damian handed her the holotag. Jameson's face displayed an expression of sadness as she gently took the holotag. She then headed to a computer and inserted the holotag in a slid.

"'_Initiate Wu_", she read out loud. "Now I can put the information in the scrolls and announce the bad news to the rest of his unit."

She removed the holotag and gave them to another scribe.

"Thank you," Jameson said. "Finding these holotag is always a painful and unpleasant job, but its necessary."

"Any idea what he was doing in Old Olney?" Damian asked.

The scribe shook her head.

"I heard his unit was to retrieve a pre-war power armor prototype, but that's all I know. Did you notice anything unusual?"

Damian thought for a moment. The dead soldier was wearing a power armor, but it looked like any regular T-45 power armor Damian had seen in the Wastes. For him, power armor all looked the same, and he had very little interest in them. They were supposed to provide good ballistic protection, although Damian had been proved otherwise numerous times, and for him these thick and giant armor, where more a way to look like a giant tin can than anything else.

"No, nothing," Damian answered.

She thanked Damian again and returned to her work.

Damian left the building. Outside. In the courtyard, he stopped and looked at the different Brotherhood soldiers. Paladin Gunny was still yelling at his recruits and a group of scribes were tinkering around the stolen Vertibird.

"If you want to go home, don't worry about me," said Fawkes. I know your human friends from Megaton will be afraid to see me.

"You don't mind, do you?"

The Super Mutant shook his head.

"Not at all," he said, imitating what looked like a smile. "I can understand that it's... Difficult for your kind to see someone like me and contain their fear."

"And what do you intend to do in the meantime?"

"I heard some of your friends in the Brotherhood mention a place, full of books. I would very much like to go there."

Damian and Fawkes arrived in front of Arlington Library. The last time Damian had been there was when he and his father were on their way to Rivet City, after almost being killed by a group of cannibals living in a small-town further West. Damian had the impression that this event was already several years old, when, only a little more than a month had passed.

Following the destruction of Prime, some minor Brotherhood positions in the ruins or Capital Wasteland had seen their numbers of soldiers reduced.

The Arlington Library was no exception. On his last visit, Damian had noticed several soldiers standing guard outside the doors of the building. Today, only a sentry in grey combat armor and fatigue, stamped with the symbol of the Brotherhood, stood guard with a laser rifle.

The proximity of the Citadel meant that few people came to snoop around and the fact that a Brotherhood contingent, no matter how small, was occupying a building or a district of D.C. was supposed to make even the most reckless Raider groups think twice before attacking. Although they had salvaged old power armor to use some parts, they were not foolish enough, or stupid enough, to take on an entire squad of seasoned soldiers with an arsenal capable of disintegrating anyone who offered the slightest resistance. That was the theory and, exceptions were not uncommon, and Damian had repeatedly heard discussions between Brotherhood soldiers, laughing at Raiders too drunk or drugged to understand that attacking a squad in T-45 was not the best idea in the world.

Fawkes was watching the big building, and Damian could see a small glimmer of excitement in the Super Mutant's eyes. He, too, must have had the same look when he entered the History Museum on the Mall and saw the many wings and corridors that the building contained. Unfortunately for him, most of them were blocked by collapses, when they were not infested with feral ghouls or simply destroyed.

"Do you think there are still legible books inside?" Damian asked.

"I hope so," replied the Super Mutant.

Damian wasn't sure what kind of books the Super Mutant was looking for, but he suspected that he wanted to find books on philosophy. When he had found Fawkes outside Raven Rock and walked to steal the Vertibird, Damian had noticed that his new companion was an extremely cultured being, and he often liked to quote from the few books he had read while he was held prisoner in Vault 87.

The sentry cast a curious look at Damian and the Super Mutant and let them in. The entrance hall was a large room, with a double staircase in the back. Just in front of the front door was a large information counter where registration forms, book loans and returns forms, and terminals for the Library staff were still stacked. Several soldiers of the Brotherhood were busy in front of boxes full of books, and Damian noticed several scribes sorting them out. Some of the scribes saw Fawkes and moved back slightly. Their faces showed curiosity when they saw the Super Mutant pick up a book and quickly flip through it before lingering on a page.

One of the scribes approached the Super Mutant and began to strike up a conversation, somewhat timidly. Fawkes began a philosophical subject that would have given Damian a real headache if he had had to discuss it in Mr. Brotch's class. The scribe answered one of Fawkes' questions, and then embarked on an even more philosophical subject.

Damian looked at them for a few moments and could not help smiling at the unlikely scene of a Super Mutant and a Brotherhood of Steel scribe debating philosophy in the ruins of a library while sorting through centuries-old books.

He remembered the great discussions he had with his father in their quarters at Vault 101, or the many conversations with Amata in the cafeteria. These discussions were often interrupted by a security guard who made Damian understand that his presence with the Overseer's daughter was not desired.

For a moment, Damian tried to imagine what the first thing he would say to Amata would be if he returned to the Vault. He imagined himself chatting with her in the cafeteria over a piece of pie and a Nuka Cola, as they had done many times before. Could he just tell her about what he had seen and done in Wasteland? Could he ever return to Vault 101? Damian wondered if he still had a place in the Vault. The outside world had changed him, for good or ill, and he was beginning to doubt that he would ever be able to return to the normal life he had known in the Vault before he was forced to flee, and if Amata would still be friend with the man he had become.

He looked one last time at the Library lobby and slipped out without anyone noticing.

* * *

**My first draft for Pitt, was to basically kill Marie. Things would have happen basically the same way as in last chapter, but Marie would have died in the process. I change my mind, mainly because I thought it would have been better to make her the "last survivor" of Pitt, instead of just making everyone die.**

**Hope you enjoyed and until next time.**


	55. Chapter 55: Bounty

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Today, Damian will be facing something he thought was already behind him.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

The rain fell heavily on the sheet metal of the huts and walls of Megaton. Stockholm, the sniper who stood guard at the entrance to Megaton, was always sitting on his little metal chair, his sniper rifle on his lap. He had set up a small umbrella over his head, hanging from a metal pole, and had cut out a beige tent canvas to use as a poncho and protection from the rain.

Damian took his eyes off the sniper, wondering if the man was really a human being and not a machine, and turned towards the crater. He had not been back since he had had to deal with the water supply problem and hoped he would not find an angry mob, attacking a Project Purity caravan.

The rain, which had been falling since Damian had left Arlington Library, had turned the crater into a giant slippery slope. Water was turning the land into mud, and small streams were running towards the Bomb.

The city was in turmoil. The inhabitants were busy digging new smaller holes to prevent the crater from being completely flooded and a few settlers were bringing buckets to help remove the water when the level was getting too high. The few visitors watched Cromwell, still wading in the radioactive water next to the Bomb, with a curious or amused eye. The Brass Lantern's outdoor counter was crowded, despite the abysmal weather. Jenny Stahl, the owner, had installed a large tarpaulin to protect her customers from the rain. As she took over the orders, she was looking nervously at the other residents, who were digging furrows and drainage holes for water. Damian noticed a new small billboard where he could read a message from Moira, asking for new _"volunteers"_ for her experiments.

He sighed and walked to Moira's store. The weather had cooled considerably since his return from Pitt and he wanted to find some warmer clothes. The only problem was that Moira owned the only store in Megaton. None of the caravans that usually stopped were there today, and Damian did not feel like going all the way to Rivet City and back in this weather to deal with the unsympathetic clothing salesman on the ship.

Gathering all his courage and praying that Moira had not set a trap for him with a laser gun, he headed for the store, if only to get shelter from the heavy rain that was falling.

Damian entered the hut and wiped his wet face. Moira's store was deserted, except for the owner and the bodyguard who was standing guard. Moira vigorously swept the floor in the back of the room. Hearing the door open and close, she turned around and, seeing Damian, smiled broadly at him.

"My favorite assistant!" she cried.

Damian gave her a faint forced smile. Moira let go of her broom and stood in front of Damian.

"What's up? Did you come back with an injury? Enough to start the next chapter of my book?"

"I... I, uh..."

Moira looked Damian from head to toe.

"I was not injured recently. I did get shot at, two weeks ago, but I, personally did not perform the surgery."

He removed his camouflage poncho and armor chest piece and lifted his t-shirt to show Moira the scar left by Autumns bullet

"It's... Not exactly what I expected," Moira said with a small pout.

"Actually, I came here to do some shopping, but I might as well close this part of the book at the same time," Damian said.

Moira grabbed her notebook and a pen before turning to Damian.

"So, tell me, how does a gunshot wound feel?

_"Bad"_ was the first word Damian wanted to say to her, but he was convinced that Moira would write down exactly what he was going to say. If the book came out, it could help a lot of people, as long as Damian gave the right information.

"It's a pretty... Indescribable pain. It feels like a burn or a tear. The adrenaline helps the pain get a little less intense, as does the fear of dying, I guess. You have to do everything you can to keep your cool and not panic. You have to focus on the essentials. Survival.

Damian was trying to explain as best he could what he had felt when he was injured. Luckily, he had not received any extremely serious injuries since his release from the Vault. He remembered, however, the probes the aliens had placed in his body during his captivity, the excruciating pain he had felt, and his visceral fear of death.

"Survival instinct often takes over," he said, recalling his first big shoot-out at the Super-Duper Mart.

He explained to Moira how to treat an injury with the means at hand, trying to remember all his father's advice on the subject.

Moira looked through her notes while Damian put his armor back. Satisfied, she put the notebook back down and reached into her pockets and pulled out a small bag of caps.

"I have one last question. How do you treat a broken limb?"

"Well... Immobilize the limb and..."

Damian was cut by the store door opening. Three men and a woman with an eyepatch over their right eye entered the store. Their faces and hair were dripping with water. They took a few moments to wipe their faces and removed the ponchos they were wearing.

Damian looked at them from head to toe. Automatic weapons, grey military clothing under black combat armor, an eagle's claw painted white on their chest.

The new arrivals noticed Damian's presence. When they saw him, they froze. Only the sound of rain drumming on the walls and roof of the store could be heard.

The mercenaries of the Talon Company slid their eyes from the Ranger symbol on Damian's armor to his Pip-Boy.

Moira's bodyguard watched the scene in amazement. He watched Damian and the mercenaries staring at each other in silent, motionless.

The woman let go of her poncho she was holding in her hands and grabbed the handle of her rifle. With the same gesture, Damian pushed Moira behind the counter and drew his pistol. He raised his gun and fired. The detonation shook the glassware in the store and resonated throughout the cabin. The bullet went down the woman's throat and she collapsed backwards in an unpleasant gurgling sound, a thick stream of blood gushing out of her throat and mouth.

Damian fired a second shot and hit one of the mercenaries in the chest. The bullet crashed into the armor. He fired again and this time he heard a yelp of pain.

One of the mercenaries turned his submachinegun towards Damian who dove behind the counter next to Moira. The shop-owner was covering her ears and closing her eyes as the 10mm burst swept across the store, wounding Moira's bodyguard who collapsed to the ground.

Damian fired blindly two successive shots, making the mercenary stop shooting and running for cover. Damian straightened up and fired again, hitting two more mercenaries. The last assailant stared at the bodies of his comrades. He fired again with his SMG, while insulting Damian, who flattened back under cover. He turned his head towards Moira who now protected her head with her arms. The objects on the shelves, broken by the storm of bullets.

The mercenary ran out of ammunition and stared at his gun, swearing. Damian took the opportunity to straighten up. He raised his gun. The mercenary threw his gun at Damian's face. Damian bent down to duck. When he got up, he saw the mercenary jump on him with a knife. He stepped over the counter and grabbed Damian by the neck and pushed him against the shelves while Moira crawled away.

Damian and the mercenary were rolling on the floor, trying to get the upper hand on. The man from Talon Company found himself on top of Damian. He raised his knife and stroke down. Damian grabbed the mercenary's wrist and pushed the blade back.

The mercenary had a grin on his face. He put his full weight on his arm. Damian could see the blade of the knife slowly approaching his throat.

The door opened on the fly and Damian heard Sheriff Simms' voice. Moira came up behind the mercenary and hit him on the head with her broom. The man straightened up, holding the back of his head. Damian kicked him away. He fell at Moira's feet and Moira jumped back to avoid him.

The mercenary got up. When he saw Simms, he raised his knife and threw it at him. Damian grabbed his assault rifle and pointed it at the mercenary. The roar of the rifle echoed throughout the hut. The man collapsed on himself in a groan.

"What the hell is happening in here?" Simms exclaimed.

He looked around, looking at the various corpses lying in large pools of blood. Damian took a deep breath and straightened up.

"Why is it that every time there's a mess in this town, you're never far away," Simms sighed, lifting the brim of his hat.

He looked at Damian in exasperation and turned to Moira.

"Are you all right Moira?"

"Uh... Yes... Yes... Yes... I think so..."

Simms leaned over one of the corpses and sighed again.

"Do you know who these people are?" asked the sheriff.

"Yes, mercenaries from Talon Company. This is the second time they've tried to kill me."

"Have you pissed anyone off lately?"

"I think these guys work for a guy named Tenpenny, but I don't know more," Damian said.

Simms got up. He looked over his shoulder. The townspeople were looking out the open door, tense and curious. Simms quickly dispersed them and closed the door.

The guard of Moira's store was dead. Simms approached Damian, leaning over one of the bodies. One of the mercenaries was still alive with a wound in his shoulder.

"Moira," Simms said. "Go get Church, please."

"Uh... Yeah... OK... Maybe I could help him treat this man and see if..."

"Moira," repeated the Sheriff.

She looked at the Sheriff who pointed to the door. She mumbled something in a low voice and left the store.

Damian tapped the mercenary's cheek to get his attention. The man slowly opened his eyes and grimaced. His hand was resting on his shoulder and pressing on the wound.

"I need a doctor," the mercenary moaned.

"First, you're going to tell me if it's really Tenpenny who employs you and why he wants me dead."

"I don't know. All we were told to do was find one of Reilly's guys with a Pip-Boy and kill him."

Damian lifted the mercenary's hand from his wound. He looked the mercenary in the eye and inserted his finger into the wound. The man opened his mouth to scream, but Damian put his hand over his mouth to prevent him from making a sound.

Simms pretended not to see anything. Damian pulled his finger out of the wound and took his saliva-covered hand out of the mercenary's mouth.

"I can go on like this for a long time," he said.

The mercenary shook his head. He swallowed his saliva and, began to speak.

"We got a contract from this guy, Tenpenny. He wanted you dead because you killed one of his associates."

"Who?" Damian asked.

"I don't know, some guy named Brook or Brock or something."

Damian looked up at Simms. The Sheriff gave him a slight nod.

"That wouldn't happen to be Burke, would it?" Simms asked.

"Sounds like it," replied the mercenary.

He looked up at Damian with worried eyes. Damian looked at him for a few seconds before he got up.

"What are you going to do with me?" asked the mercenary.

"I don't know, yet," Simms answered.

The door of the store opened again, and Moira entered, followed by Doc Church. Seeing the many dead bodies in the store, he sighed. The doctor grabbed his satchel and approached the wounded mercenary.

Just before he was taken to Church's clinic, the mercenary was handcuffed and escorted by Simms.

"Don't do anything stupid, kid," he said before leaving the store.

"I'm going to help you clean this up," Damian said.

"Oh no," Moira cut him off. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it myself."

She smiled broadly at Damian and grabbed her broom off the floor and began to gather the broken items and shell casings into a small pile, while a few settlers entered the shop and started to transport the bodies outside.

Damian left the store. Everything had returned to normal, as if nothing had happened.

Damian doubted that the Talon Company would leave him alone until they succeeded in their task. He remembered walking by and old military facility on his way to Vault 87, used by the mercenary group.

Damian headed to the clinic. He found Simms inside, overseeing, Church and the mercenary.

"What do you know about this Tenpenny?" Damian asked the Sheriff.

"Nothing more than everyone here, I'm afraid," Simms answered crossing his arms. "He lives with a few wealthy people in an old high-rise apartment building, Southwest of here, protected by a small army of trigger happy merc and renamed the place _'Tenpenny Tower'_. No one goes in there unless their pockets are filled with caps."

"Burke wanted to blow up Megaton with the Bomb. If he ever worked for Tenpenny, he'd probably want to do it again."

"The Bomb's deactivated by you, right?" Simms said. "And if that old rich guy wants to blow up Megaton, we'll know how to get it."

Simms pointed to his trusty old Chinese assault rifle. Damian stared at the blank. He started combing his little beard with his fingers and thinking of a way out of this situation.

"This tower, how far is it from Megaton?"

"I'd say, about one or two hours walk," Simms said after a brief reflection. "What part of _'Nobody goes in unless they have pockets full of capsules'_ and _'Don't do anything stupid'_ didn't you understand?" Simms asked.

"I'll find a way," Damian answered. "It's always going to be more achievable than attacking Talon Company on my own."

Simms sighed. He looked at Damian and shook his head.

"You're really crazy," he said.

The sky was still black, but the rain had stopped, leaving behind a soggy, muddy ground and a strong impression of damp air.

Damian had left Megaton about ten minutes ago. Before leaving, he had returned to Moira's house. The young woman had finished collecting the items broken or damaged in the shooting in a large pile and had taken over the inventory of her store, disregarding the smell of gunpowder and blood floating in the air. Damian had then bought her a thick military sweater and some ammo.

Damian climbed up a small rocky hill. Behind him, the town of Megaton, hidden by a hill and the remains of a collapsed highway. At his feet, a small asphalt road cracked and strewn with puddles, bordered by a rusty guardrail. In front of him, a forest of burnt trees, and in the distance, the remains of a highway, behind which, Damian could see a large white tower with a brown roof. He was probably an hour's walk away, maybe less, if he decided to cut through the forest.

This forest, or rather this pile of dead trees, did not inspire him with confidence. He didn't know why, but as he looked at the grove, he had an unpleasant impression. Damian decided to go around the trees.

He walked a dozen meters away from the edge of the forest, always keeping an eye inward, watching for any movement of a wild animal or enemy. Moving across the fields was dangerous, especially when crossing great distances without shelter. The only advantage was that you could see wild animals approaching.

With the grove behind him, Damian continued to walk until he came across a road at the bottom of a hill. A little further on, the remains of wooden houses, blown up during the Great War. Several small tin shacks had been built nearby. The huts were destroyed, and it was impossible to tell whether it was the work of the Bombs, the weather, or a group of looters or Super Mutants. The road, gradually eaten away by sand and earth, was lined with telephone poles, the cables of which swayed slowly in the wind.

Damian heard an increasingly loud roar. Two black dots broke away from the clouds. Two Enclave Vertibird were approaching his position at full speed. Damian looked around him. He ran to the wreckage of a car, slightly raised against the guardrail and slid underneath. He heard the Vertibird approaching. Both devices slowed down. They circled slowly around the ruins, like two hawks looking for prey. After a few seconds, which seemed interminable, the two Vertibird turned and disappeared behind the hills.

Damian crawled out of his shelter. He climbed up and down several hills until he reached the ruins of a collapsed highway. He climbed up or under the collapsed concrete. As he crossed the remains of the highway, he observed the thick reinforced concrete pillars that were still standing. Damian had been impressed to see that most of the buildings were still standing, even after the terrible bombings of the Great War. If the Bombs had, as he thought, exploded just above the cities or strategic military points, then the blast effect would have been tenfold and Washington D.C. would look more like a huge flat piece of land dotted with concrete blocks and car bodies, not this ocean of ruins and torn down buildings. The network of highways that once ran through the area was a collection of small, damaged or collapsed structures, some of which were the only traces of the Old World for miles around.

The Tenpenny Tower did not seem to have suffered much from the Great War. Damian was only a few minutes' walk from his destination. A grove, located between the tower and the destroyed highway, stood in front of him. On the edge of the trees, Damian could see what was left of a small power station. The large steel pylons that carried the cables to the various pre-war cities were still standing and Damian could hear the metal twisting and creaking in the wind.

He moved away from the highway and went down to the power station. Traces of fresh blood lay on the muddy ground. Damian prepared his rifle and listened. There were no bodies, but judging from the heavy bloodstains, several people or creatures had fought here and died.

Right next to the power station was the wreckage of a truck and its trailer. Damian approached cautiously. A strong smell emanated from the trailer whose doors were open. Damian looked inside. The bodies of several men and women, mutilated and partially devoured, were in the trailer. Damian grimaced and stepped back. He heard a twig crack behind him, followed by a growl.

Damian turned his head. Between the trees, a black, slightly hairy mass was staring at him. The creature looked vaguely like a bear. Four large muscular legs, ending in long black claws, a stocky dark body with small tufts of black hair, an elongated snout, small rounded ears and shiny eyes. The animal had numerous scars on its nose and the rest of its body. It opened his mouth, revealing a row of yellow fangs stained with blood, and breathed heavily.

The animal stared at Damian, silently. Only its heavy breathing could be heard. Damian stepped aside. The creature stood on its hind legs and bellowed. The animal was about two meters high. Damian thought of the mutilation marks on the dead bodies in the trailer and glanced at the creature's jaws and claws. Damian stepped back. He was now on the ramp to the trailer.

The animal took a few steps forward, still on its hind legs, and roared again. Damian raised his rifle, but in a split second, the beast fell back on its front legs and ran at him.

Damian dove to the side and narrowly avoided a kick that would have torn him in two. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the creature had just entered the trailer. He rushed to the rail-door and pulled it shut. Just before he closed them and engaged the lock, he could see, among the dead bodies and behind the giant bear, two more of these creatures, much smaller. The bear charged. Damian locked the door and jumped back, just as the creature hit the door. The trailer shook and the animal roared with anger. He hit and scratched the door several times and then growled before silence fell again.

Damian looked around, checking that there were no other such creatures around and leaned forward and put his hands on his thighs. He took a deep breath and sighed and straightened up in a nervous laugh.

He had just met his first Yao Guai. He had already seen specimens of these mutant bears in the cryogenic lab at Raven Rock, but those were much smaller than this one.

The Yao Guai threw itself against the door again, startling Damian. The young man decided to move away quickly before the angry bear smashed the door open.

Damian arrived on a plain, dotted with small shrubs and rocks. On the left, a large parking lot at the foot of a factory building. Sheltered behind a rock, Damian observed the building. The car park was deserted, except for a few cars, eaten away by rust. On one of the facades, several posters, stuck before the Great War, were still visible. The building itself seemed to have suffered more from the effects of time than the bombs. On the roof, several large pumps, or tanks from which large pipes came out and which disappeared inside the building. On the façade, above the entrance, Damian could read the letters _"bCO"_. He looked in his memory to see where he had seen these letters before, and remembered that these were the last three letters of the name RobCO, the pre-war company that had made his Pip-Boy, the Protectrons and almost all the computers in pre-apocalypse America.

It was probably one of the company's factories, and if it was, then the place had probably been looted countless times by scavengers looking for spare parts for their robots.

Damian looked over his shoulder. Tenpenny's tower stood in the middle of the plain, surrounded by a few trees. The building was much more impressive when seen up close. About twenty stories high, the building had seen its base and part of its back façade reinforced by thick steel plates. Most of the windows were barricaded, and only a handful of them projected a weak light, attenuated by dirty curtains. A balcony ran around the center of the middle floor building and Damian noticed what looked like a terrace at the top of the building.

Around the tower, a barricade of reinforced concrete slabs, three or four meters high, had been erected and barbed wire completed this protective wall, both to prevent undesirables from entering, or the inhabitants from fleeing.

Damian walked around the building, keeping his distance and arrived in front of a marble porch lined with columns and a large metal gate. Damian could hear voices on the other side of the wall. He noticed an intercom on the wall near the door.

"Hello?" Damian said, pressing the button and bringing his head closer to the microphone.

He heard someone grumbling through the intercom and the disgruntled voice of a man answered.

"'_This is private property here. Get out of the way.'"_

"Do you treat all visitors this way?" Damian asked.

"'_No, I don't. Just the ones that give me a headache, like you. Now get your ass out of Mr. Tenpenny's house!'_"

"I just came to see Tenpenny."

Damian heard the man laughing on the other side of the wall.

"'_And what would Mr. Tenpenny, a very busy man, have to do with a sewer rat like you?'_"

"I know he's looking for someone and I'm able to provide him with information about that person."

"'_Oh, yeah? Who's that?'_"

"The Lone Wanderer."

The man on the other side of the wall remained silent. After a few seconds, Damian heard the metal door unlock.

Damian walked through the door. A large inactive fountain of stone and marble stood in front of him. Two rows of columns formed an alley from the gate to the entrance of the tower.

Several men armed with assault rifles and dressed in khaki battle armor stood behind the fountain or on either side of the gate.

"Welcome to Tenpenny Tower. Don't do anything foolish and everything will be all right."

Damian turned his head. A Hispanic man in his forties with short brown hair looked at him, sitting in a chair facing a small radio. He recognized the voice of his interlocutor on the intercom.

"Okay, we're going to start by taking out this nice poncho and handing me all the weapons."

Damian slowly lifted his poncho. Seeing the Pip-Boy on his arm, the guards exchanged stunned glances. The man with whom Damian had spoken drew a gun and pointed it at Damian, quickly imitated by all his men.

"Holy shit," the man smiled.

He approached Damian and raised his poncho completely, revealing the breastplate of his Ranger armor.

"Either you're dumb or you're crazy. I'm leaning towards the first option."

The man took a few steps back. He waved to one of his men who approached Damian and disarmed him.

"Close the door," the man said to his subordinates. "You three, with me. We're going to see Mr Tenpenny. I'm sure he'll be delighted to see you, Lone Wanderer."

* * *

**Damian just entered the renoun Tenpenny Tower.**

**How will he deal with the man who wants him dead? Will it be friendly chit-chat, or shotgun-diplomacy?**

**Until next time.**


	56. Chapter 56: Room Service

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Today, we'll see how Damian negociates with Tenpenny.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

Damian, escorted by the four Tenpenny Tower guards, entered the building. A gentle warmth enveloped him, as well as a smell of cleanliness.

A row of columns led to a lobby, lit by two large crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling. Several potted plants were scattered in an orderly and regular fashion to bring a little life to the place. A large red and gold carpet decorated the floor in front of a large wooden desk. Several leather or fabric armchairs were set up next to small tables where ashtrays with cigars, wine glasses or cigarette packages were placed.

There were two staircases on either side of the lobby and a mezzanine bordered by a small balustrade, decorated with frescoes, leading to the other rooms in the tower. A little music floated in the air, the same kind of music that played in the cafeteria or the elevators of Vault 101.

The guards and Damian approached the reception desk, where a man in combat armor was sitting next to several walkie-talkies and telephones. When Damian and his escort arrived, he opened his eyes and stood up, unable to take his eyes off the young man.

"Is Mr. Tenpenny in his apartments?" asked the head of security.

The receptionist grabbed a radio and started talking into the microphone.

Damian looked around him. He understood what Simms had meant when he said, _'No one goes in unless their pockets are filled with capsules'_. The place sweated with luxury and money. On the mezzanine floor, several people, men and women of various ages, watched the scene unfolding before their eyes with curiosity. Some were exchanging words in low voices. Damian noticed that they were all unarmed and dressed in new, clean clothes.

For a moment Damian thought that he had done a leap back in the past, that he had returned to the pre-war times. Women had make-up, lipsticks, wore pink, green or black dresses with heels, while the men were wearing suit, shirts and trousers that looked like they just came out of the laundry.

This whole place was a blot compared to the Wasteland. No ragged vagabonds, no groups of mercenaries armed to the teeth, no hunters with big bags of fur or meat, no billboards promising a reward for killing this or that creature in that place. No one with patched up clothes or looking sick or sad.

The inhabitants of Tenpenny Tower watched Damian with an unhealthy curiosity, tinged with disgust. The wealthy class of the Capital Wasteland seemed to have nothing but contempt for the rest of its inhabitants.

"Move."

The head of security grabbed Damian by the arm and led him to an elevator in the back of the lobby. Damian felt the pressure of the barrel of a gun in his back and entered the cabin. One of the guards pressed a button and the elevator started. The ride lasted a few seconds. The doors opened into a rectangular room with ochre walls. The ceiling was supported by two large pillars, surrounded by small marble saddles where vases and flowers were placed.

To the right of the lift, sitting on a chair, was a guard. When he saw the group arriving, he stood up and whispered something into the radio attached to his armor.

"Mr. Tenpenny is on the balcony of his suite," said the guard to his superior. "He's hunting."

The head of security nodded. He let Damian in through a nice wooden door. A small room with marble columns and a small space in the center, reserved for flowers, was on the other side. Damian heard a shot from behind a double blue metal door guarded by two armed men.

They opened the door to the outside.

"Forward," grunted the guard behind Damian.

The door opened onto a small terrace. From here it was possible to see the whole Wasteland. In the distance, the ruins of D.C. stood out on the horizon. A panorama that was both magnificent and terrifying at the same time. Damian could have found the view to his liking, if it was not obstructed by a small crowd of people dressed in three-piece suits or colorful dresses. A second shot rang out. It came from the center of the crowd. Immediately after the shot, a thunderous applause resounded.

In the center of the crowd, an old man, wearing white trousers, leather boots reaching to his knees, a white shirt under a red suit jacket and a small matching scarf around his neck.

He was about 75 or 80 years old and was holding a polished sniper rifle with a smoking barrel, a DKS-501 in perfect condition, the same model as Colvin's. The man turned to the crowd gathered around him, who were applauding him. He displayed a broad smile, accentuating the wrinkles on his face even more. When he saw Damian and his escort, the smile on his face faded slightly.

He smiled again at the crowd and placed his sniper rifle next to a small red cloth armchair and a coffee table in a box provided for that purpose.

"My friends," he said. "Please forgive me. I have urgent business to attend to."

The crowd passed Damian by, glaring at him intrigued and scornful, frustrated that they had to postpone their little bootlicker session. The old man waited a few seconds until all his courtiers had entered the tower. He quickly observed Damian, then moved to the small coffee table, where there was a crystal decanter filled with a brown liquid, probably scotch or bourbon.

"Mr. Gustavo, you bring me a choice personality," said the old man, helping himself with a glass.

He turned to Damian and slowly drank a sip from his glass.

"Allow me to welcome you to the magnificent Tenpenny Tower. I am Allistair Tenpenny, contractor and owner of this building."

He spoke with a strong accent that Damian had never heard before, suggesting that he was probably not native from the Capital Wasteland. Tenpenny sat down in the chair and lit a large cigar.

"So, what do you think of my building?" the old man asked, pulling out his cigar. "The jewel of the Capital Wasteland, isn't it? I'm quite proud of my work."

"It's a beautiful tower, yes," said Damian looking around. "Quite an achievement you made. Finding this building in the middle of nothing, instead of building it was probably a hard task."

"You're a caustic individual," Tenpenny hissed. "Making this place what it is today took a lot of work and manpower. But thanks to the dedicated help of Mr. Gustavo and his men, as well as that of Mr. Burke, it has become a reality."

He shot his cigar and blew out a foul grey smoke. Damian took another look around him. The man named Gustavo stood between him and Tenpenny. One of the guards was standing right next to him, and the other two were standing behind, by the door.

"You've met Mr. Burke, I believe," continued Tenpenny. "An extraordinary man, I must say. He's good at getting things done. I'd very much like to know what impression he made on you?"

"To be honest with you," said Damian. "Our meeting was so brief that I don't really remember."

Tenpenny wrinkled his eyelids and stared at Damian silently.

"What do you want?" he asked. "You've come to ask my forgiveness for killing my faithful right-hand man?"

"No, I'm here to ask you to stop sending killers after me."

Tenpenny took a sip of his drink and smiled. He looked at Gustavo and his men, who smiled in turn.

"You had the privilege of meeting my right-hand man, and you shot him down coldly, I'm told. Every action has its consequences, young man. Before I kill you, I want to know why you killed him."

"It was Burke who tried to kill me first, after I refused to blow up Megaton. All I did was defend myself."

Tenpenny put his glass down and turned his head to the Wasteland. He raised his arm and pointed to a spot in the ruins of D.C., behind a destroyed highway.

"You mentioned that... That fly shit in the landscape," Tenpenny said disgustedly. "Megaton is ruining my view, and dear Mr. Burke had offered to fix it."

"By burning the town to the ground?"

"What you, for unknown reasons, call _"a city"_, is nothing more than a heap of metal polluting the view of my penthouse. The idea of blowing up this hellhole was really just a favour I was doing to the people living there. It was only a matter of time before this bomb exploded. I just wanted to... Speed things up."

A slight smile appeared on Damian's lips. Tenpenny and Gustavo frowned.

"Like I said, I'm here to ask you to stop sending killers after me. I was going to leave after that, but instead I'd rather kill you."

Gustavo giggled and Tenpenny chuckled. The other three guards exchanged glances and some laughter.

Damian smiled one last time. He grabbed the gun from the guard beside him and shot him in the thigh. Then he raised his gun to Gustavo and put a bullet in his head. He turned around and killed the two guards behind him who had not had time to move.

The door opened and the two men guarding it burst into the terrace. Damian grabbed the barrel of the first man's rifle, tripped him and pushed him to the railing. With the impulse, the man toppled over and fell into the void with a scream of terror.

The second guard raised his gun and was shot in the head, before collapsing to the ground. The soldier guarding the door of Tenpenny's apartments appeared. He fired a burst towards Damian, who took cover behind the door. The man approached. When he saw the barrel of the gun sticking out of the door, Damian kicked it. The door closed on the man who fell to the ground. Damian raised his gun and shot him in the back.

He turned to Tenpenny, still sitting in his armchair, and approached him. Tenpenny had not moved. He stared trembling at Damian.

"W... Wait," stuttered the old man as he raised his hands. "I... I can pay you... I... I have money... I... I have money... I have..."

Damian finished off the guard wounded in the thigh and continued walking towards Tenpenny. The old man raised his arm to grab his sniper rifle beside him. Damian did not give him time to finish his gesture and put two bullets in his chest.

The great Allistair Tenpenny collapsed in his seat, dead. Strangely, Damian felt as if he had just done a good deed. He put his pistol back and grabbed one of the assault rifles from the floor. He returned to the tower and headed for the elevator.

The elevator doors opened on five armed guards. When they saw Damian, they raised their guns and opened fire. Damian dove to the side and returned to apartments for cover. He heard the guards approaching. He fired a few blind shots and grabbed the guard's chair next to the door. He closed the door and barricaded it with the chair.

He was trapped. Killing Tenpenny in his fiefdom had seemed a good idea at the time, but now he was trapped, with an army of mercenaries in front of him. The chair in front of the gate was not going to hold them for long.

Damian returned to the terrace. He closed the door and blocked it with the bodies of Gustavo and his men.

He looked around him but saw no way out. He leaned over the balcony. Below, the balcony he had seen on his way in, and which went around the building. From here, Damian could reach it, but it was too high. If he jumped, he would get hurt and could never leave the tower alive, and even if he did, he would not last long if he fell on Raiders or a mutant animal.

Damian looked around him. An idea came to him. He crouched down next to the bodies of Gustavo and his men and removed their belts. He hung one of them from the railing and began to tie the others together. He wasn't sure that his idea would work, but he was equally sure that facing Tenpenny's army alone with only this rifle and a half-empty pistol would definitely not work.

Damian threw his makeshift rope into the void and stepped over the railing. He preferred not to think about what would happen if he missed his shot.

He heard the penthouse door being knocked down. Damian grabbed the rope, took a deep breath and jumped. He rappelled down the façade until he set foot on the balcony.

Damian looked at his hands, which were reddened by the leather, and grabbed his rifle. He approached a door leading upstairs and turned the handle. He let out a grunt when he noticed that the door was locked. Damian stepped onto the balcony and found a window leading to a luxurious apartment.

Inside, he came across a couple of residents and a young girl, about his age. Immediately, the woman, grabbed the young girl and screamed.

"Who are you?" asked the man dressed in a grey striped suit.

"Room service," Damian said as he approached.

"Who are you? Please don't hurt my daughter! You savage! Guards! Security! Somebody! Help!"

The woman cried hysterically. Her husband grabbed Damian by the arm and tried to disarm him. Damian knocked him out with a punch in the face. His wife screamed and let go of her daughter to run away. Damian stopped for a second when he saw the terrified eyes of the young girl. Her legs were shaking, she looked at Damian, at the verge of tears. Damian could not help but feel sad, seeing her like that, looking at him in terror, like he was a Raider that was going to murder her parents and then rape her and kill her.

Damian saw two guards enter the room and raising their gun at him. Damian slammed the door to the bedroom shut. He flattened on the floor, just before the guard started firing through the door. Damian fired blindly at the door and heard a scream. The door opened on a guard who collapsed on Damian. The second guard entered and looked around. He saw the husband lying on the floor and the young girl, who had collapsed on the ground, shellshocked, staring at the dead guard.

The mercenary looked down and saw his companion, over Damian, and saw the barrel of Damian's rifle pointed at him. He uttered a surprised hiccup before the roar of the assault rifle rang in the room.

Damian pushed the corpse away and got up. He looked at the young girl, who was staring at the blank, shaking, blood drips on her face, tears in her eyes.

Damian sighed and left the room, stepping over the bodies lying on the floor and headed for the elevator. On his way, he picked up the rifle magazines from the mercenaries. He entered the elevator and pressed the ground floor button.

When he reached the bottom floor, he would have to face the rest of Tenpenny's army. He checked his ammunition and felt the lift come to a standstill. The doors opened onto the lobby. Damian went inside, keeping an eye on the mezzanine. Only the guard at the reception was present, talking frantically into the radio attached to his armor. He turned around and was surprised to see Damian. He let out a curse and tried to grab his gun. Damian punched him and knocked him to the ground.

The front door of the tower opened on several mercenaries, who, on seeing Damian, immediately opened fire. Damian took cover behind the desk. The mercenaries fired short, precise bursts, unlike the Raiders or the bandits of the Wasteland, who emptied their magazines in seconds.

"Come on out, asshole!" exclaimed one of the voices. "And we'll kill you quickly!"

"Yeah, sure," Damian whispered.

He heard several of the mercenaries slowly approaching him, the soles of their boots resonating against the tile floor in the lobby. Damian switched his gun to automatic fire. He looked up at the ceiling and a slight smile appeared on his face.

He raised his gun and fired several shots towards the large chandeliers hanging in the lobby. The chain broke and the chandelier fell on three mercenaries who had come towards him. A small cry of surprise and fear escaped from one of them before he got crushed.

The receptionist was slowly coming to his senses. He started to get up and saw Damian's foot coming towards him. The mercenary stumbled backwards. A series of shots rang out in the lobby as the mercenaries fired at their companion, mistaking him for Damian.

"Fuck!" one of the mercenaries yelled. "Cease fire!"

Damian stood up and fired several shots at the remaining enemies. Two mercenaries were hit and collapsed to the ground.

"You motherf…"

"Fuck this! I'm out of here!"

Damian heard footsteps running away to the exit.

"Come back, you cowards!"

Damian looked over the desk. Only him and two mercenaries were left.

"Looks like your colleagues preferred to leave," he said.

"Fuck you!"

A burst hit the desk. Damian rolled to the side. He jumped out of his shelter and sent a burst, hitting one of the mercenaries who died instantly.

The last mercenary looked at the corpse of his companion and looked up at Damian.

"W... W... W... Wait... Wait...! D... D... Don't shoot!"

Damian stood up and pointed his rifle at the mercenary. The mercenary slowly came out from behind his shelter with his hands in the air. He threw his gun on the floor and raised his hands even higher, as if he wanted to hit the ceiling. Damian left his cover and approached the broken chandeliers on the floor.

"How many of you were there in all?" Damian asked.

"T... T… T… Twenty...," the mercenary stammered.

Damian had not kept track of the men he had to kill in that tower.

"Here's what we're going to do."

The mercenary stared at Damian, convinced he was going to kill him.

"I'm going to get out of here without killing you. In return, I want you to make sure Talon Company, or any of Tenpenny's other associates, stop coming after me. If you don't, I'll be back."

The mercenary nodded frantically. Damian kept him at the end of his gun until he came out of the tower. He retrieved his belongings from a locker near the tower's security door and ran away from the tower.

Damian stopped behind the RobCo factory and glanced towards Tenpenny Tower. No one had gone after him. He did not know if the Tenpenny mercenaries would try to get even or if the Talon Company would get the message. For a moment, he thought that he had made the thing worse. He thought about that young girl, and saw her terrified and shellshocked face, and could not help but think that he was responsible for that.

He sighed and ran his hand over his face before looking at his Pip-Boy's clock. If he wanted to get back to Megaton before dark, he would have to hurry.

Damian took one last look at the tower and got up before heading towards Megaton.

* * *

**I removed the ghouls from the Tenpenny Tower quest, because I don't like this part of the quest. I just wanted to have Damian deal with the Talon Company hitmen, in a different way than going full guns blazing in their HQ and it's also a way to protect Megaton from Tenpenny.**

**Hope you enjoyed and until next time.**


	57. Chapter 57: Trauma

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Today we follow Damian as he discovers something that could threaten Megaton.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

The rain was falling again. Damian had just taken shelter inside the Brass Lantern when the sky had unleashed a deluge down on the area. Several strings of light bulbs were hanging from the ceiling to light a small room, occupied by an L-shaped counter. The few regulars were seated on their stools and ate quietly while chatting quietly. The Galaxy News Radio station came from a small radio set somewhere in the restaurant, and a good smell of food was in the air.

Damian sat down on one of the free stools and raised his poncho. He looked through the menu, handwritten on a piece of paper.

Damian had thought about that young girl at the Tenpenny Tower. He felt a little guilty, knowing that he had probably shattered that girl's mind. He had not thought about the fact that normal people would live at Tenpenny Tower, other than Tenpenny and his goons. That girl was probably a normal girl, whose parents had probably come to the Tower to protect her from the dangers of the Wasteland.

Damian was probably the only image she had from the Wasteland and the world outside Tenpenny Tower, and in one brief meeting, he had managed to knock her father out, make her mother run away, and scare her by murdering two men in cold blood before her eyes.

Damian sighed, knowing that nothing he could do would make that girl forget what she had witness, and knew that everything was Tenpenny's fault and that somewhere, in the Wastes, another young girl is living a true nightmare and that no concrete wall or mercenary army were there to protect her.

Damian looked around the restaurant.

Sitting next to him, two men, dressed in traveling clothes, chatted over a bottle of liquor, two empty plates in front of them.

"Did you hear the last one?" asked the first man.

"No, what is it?" answered the second.

"I heard that a town North of here regularly orders arms and ammunition from the local caravans."

"Nothing too out of the ordinary. Look around, we're all armed like World War Four is gonna happen any minutes."

"Yeah, I know, I just thought it was a little strange. Usually it's those crazy guys from the Talon Company or those guys in the ruins who buy guns."

"Reilly's Rangers?"

"Yeah, them. You heard what happened to them a month or two ago?"

"Yeah. They were trapped in D.C. by Super Mutants and they got out with the help of a Good Samaritan."

"A Good Samaritan, or some crazy guy. Venturing the Wastes is already dangerous, but the ruins of D.C. are suicide."

"Yeah, well... Maybe that guy fell in love with Reilly... That's the only explanation I can see."

"That, or Jesus fuckin' Christ came back among us."

Damian shook his head slowly and smiled slightly. He felt like he had met Reilly and her Rangers forever, when in reality, only a month and a half had passed.

Jenny Stahl, the restaurant waitress, appeared in front of Damian, forcing him to leave the conversation between the two men.

"Good evening," she said with a smile. "It's good to see you again."

Damian ordered some food, trying to pick up the thread of the conversation between the two men next to him. In the Vault, he had become quite good at listening in on other people's conversations, so he could be aware of certain things. Things he might have known, if only the other adults or children in the Vault had not been so cold and unpleasant to him.

"Seriously?" said one of the men.

"Yeah! That guy had a Yao Guai with him. I'd never seen those beasts up close before, at least not after I blew them up with my M79. And the guy, he shows up, all quiet, with his fucking radioactive bear on his heel, following him like a pup. At first, we all thought we were irradiated or something. A grown-up Yao Guai, walking alongside a guy carrying a little cart, filled to the brim with trinkets and shit he's trying to sell."

"Holy shit! With something like that next to you, you're sure you won't get attacked. I've seen enough of these animals to know better than to piss them off."

"Yeah, I've seen enough of them too. Can you imagine if we could do the same thing with Deathclaws? They're as hard to kill as crabs, those bastards. If we had them defending the caravans, No one would be coming to attack us."

"Maybe, but personally, I wouldn't trust any of these things, even domesticated. Dogs, you can train them easy, maybe something in their brain that makes them remember they were friends with our ancestors, or some shit like that. But a Yao Guai or a Deathclaw? Even domesticated, I'd never get within a hundred yards of those things without a rocket launcher."

"Speaking of which, last time I ran into a couple of guys organizing Mole rats' races."

One of the men burst out laughing and drew disapproving glances from some of the customers.

"I shit you not! They'd set up shop on the highway that runs right past the ruins of D.C. to the West."

"I'm gonna have to check it out sometime. By the way, since you mention the D.C. ruins, I met a guy who's claims he's been walking around the ruins. A scavenger."

"Yeah, right."

"I know you have to be really crazy to go there. It's not worth the risk of getting your head ripped off by a Super Mutant or eaten by ghouls."

They ordered something to eat and poured themselves another drink.

"Did… Did you saw one? Super Mutants?"

The man drank the bottom of his glass and put his hand on his neck, where a little necklace was, and stroked it nervously.

"Not from up close. When I was a kid, my village, West of D.C., was attacked by this filth. My mother hid me in a hatch under our cabin before she went to help with the defense. After about an hour, she came and got me. We had had a few casualties, but we were able to hold on, mostly because there was a big caravan that had stopped for the day. I just remember seeing one of those monsters watching us from a nearby hill. He stood there for several minutes watching us. It scared the living shit out of me."

"And you shot him?"

"No, he was too far away, we'd have wasted ammo. After a couple of minutes, maybe two or three, he was gone. And you?"

"I've seen what these things can do to you. The other day we were in the Northwest. We'd heard about a new settlement across the mountains, and, anyway, we passed by a little chapel, you know, the kind you find near old pre-war towns. We knew something was wrong when we saw all the metal stakes that surrounded the chapel. We tried to go around it, but one of the chicks in our group was desperate to check it out. We didn't want to go near that thing, but since this girl was sleeping with our leader... Anyway, we got close and... We just heard a throaty scream and it started shooting up all over the place. I don't think I've ever run so fast in my life. When it calmed down, we realized the chief and the girl weren't there. We wanted to get away, but the chief had the map of the area, and we didn't want to leave him there. We didn't care about the girl, you see. She had just joined us, and nobody could really stand her. Anyway, when we went back to the chapel, it was deserted. All that was left were... the bodies of our chief and the girl, well..."

"Yeah, I know the type."

"Fuck, I've seen some fucked up things in my life, but this... "

Jenny Stahl came back with a plate she placed in front of Damian. He paid and began to eat, continuing to listen to the two men.

"Did you visit that museum in Rivet City?"

"Yeah, I did. I'm sure the guy who runs it celebrates the 4th of July every year by shooting fireworks from the deck of the ship, wrapped in an American flag, singing the Star-spangled banner."

"Why, what's the Fourth of July?"

"It was... Yeah, no, forget it. I visited it, yeah. I wonder how he got all that crap together. It amazes me that people would be interested in all this old shit. When you get up in the morning, you don't know if you'll be alive tonight, let alone wake up the next day."

"That's why I always charge a high premium. The roads West and North ain't no vacation."

"That I can believe."

The conversation between the two men lasted a few more minutes, before they left each other. Damian finished his meal in silence. He stayed a few more moments, listening to the radio, waiting for an address from Three Dogs. The host was satisfied with a short message, reporting on the situation in the Wasteland. In other words, nothing new.

Damian got up and left the restaurant. No sooner had he left the restaurant than he heard gunshots coming from the other side of the city walls.

The inhabitants raised their heads to the sky and to the city walls.

"What is it?"

Lucy West had just appeared near Damian. She looked at him and Damian shook his head. They saw Sheriff Simms moving quickly towards the city gates. Damian followed him, and he heard Lucy run up behind him.

Simms walked past the gates and along the wall before he stopped and looked up.

"Can you see anything?"

"Nothing! It's too dark!"

Damian raised his head in turn. Stockholm, Megaton's sniper was standing on a catwalk above them. Simms climbed up a ladder, followed by Damian. The footbridge provided a view of the hilltops around Megaton, but the dark night and rain made it impossible to see.

Stockholm stared into the darkness for a few more seconds before crouching down and lifting a tarp at his feet, revealing a bunch of fission batteries. He grabbed two cables and plugged them into the batteries and a large lamp attached to the railing on the wall. They heard screams, calling for help. Stockholm lit the lamp and pointed the beam at the Wastes. Hills, bushes, and rocks appeared in the light, and a curtain of rain fell heavily on the metal sheet of the footbridge. The sniper swept the landscape with the spotlight.

Damian could feel the cold rain falling on his head and running down his neck and face and down his back. He nervously followed the bluish spotlight beam that slid in front of them.

The voice shouted again, closer.

"What do you think it is?" Damian asked. "Some ruse by Raiders?"

"Nah," answered Stockholm. "They leave Megaton alone now that the Brotherhood is making regular caravans."

"Aim the light up to the sky and wave it around," cried Simms.

Stockholm did so and waved the spotlight up and quickly moved it from right to left. The beam hit the clouds in the sky.

"That way! Follow the light!" Simms shouted, placing his hands in a bullhorn.

No answer came to them. Stockholm turned the spotlight to the Wasteland and quickly swept the area.

"Stockholm, is Weld in position at the door?"

"Yes, like every night, and it's configured for thermal and infrared vision. The guards on the other walls are ready, but I don't think it's a trap."

"All right get to the gate and shine one of the lights up in the air. Me and the kid are gonna stay here."

The sniper grabbed his rifle and ran to the door. A few seconds later, a beam of light rose towards the clouds.

"You've got better eyes than me, kid," Simms said as he grabbed the spotlight handles. "I'm going to scan the area, see if I catch anything in the beam."

Damian nodded and turned towards the Wastes. He watched the spot of light moving across the ground and the hillsides.

"If you can hear us, go into the light!" Damian shouted into the night.

He scanned the darkness, illuminated by the spotlight.

"There!" Damian cried, pointing at something. "Come back! To the left!"

Simms tilted the spotlight in the direction indicated. In the beam, a small human figure appeared, that of a young boy. He stopped and raised his arm in front of his face to protect himself from the dazzling light pointed at him. The boy glanced over his shoulder and started running.

"Go that way!" Simms said, sliding the beam towards the city gates. "Go to the other lights!"

The Sheriff then turned the light towards the hills where the boy had come from. Damian put the barrel of his rifle on the handrail, crouched and scanned the area nervously. Something had frightened the boy and made him run towards Megaton. Stokholm and two settlers came back to them and replaced Simms who ran down to the door. Damian imitated him and let himself slide down the ladder. He joined the Sheriff and Lucy West in front of the city gates that were just opening.

The young boy rushed inside and hit Lucy. The boy stumbled backwards and fell in the mud. Lucy almost lost her balance and Damian caught her in extremis. He thought he could see the young woman's cheeks getting blush as she stood up and shyly thanked him.

Everyone turned to the young boy who was already on his feet, looking around in panic.

"The monsters! I... I... They're coming here! They're gonna get me! They're gonna kill me! They're gonna kill us all!"

Simms ordered to close the doors. The two heavy metal plates came down and Damian heard the plane engine activate and the metal wall close to protect the door.

"Do you see anything?" the Sheriff asked the guards.

"No, Sheriff! Nothing at all!"

"All is quiet on this side!"

"Nothing to report here either!"

Tension dropped a notch among the inhabitants of Megaton, but the young boy continued to cast terrified glances at the door and around him, repeating that _"the monsters were coming."_.

Damian took the opportunity to take a closer look at the boy. He must have been about ten years old at the most. He had chestnut hair falling down on his forehead and, under a thick layer of mud and dirt, a very pale complexion. He was not wearing shoes and his clothes, a white tank top, grey overalls and dark blue rubber gloves, were torn and soaked.

Lucy slowly approached him and crouched down in front of him.

"It's all right, sweetheart," she said calmly with a smile. "Calm down, you are safe here."

The boy turned to her and looked at her, frightened.

"No! Those things! They will come! They're right there!"

"Calm down," Lucy repeated softly. "Nothing and no one will hurt you here, I promise."

"Don't worry, kid," said Simms. "You're safe at Megaton."

The young boy looked around again. He spoke incomprehensible words and fell to the ground. Lucy knelt beside the boy and began to call out to him nervously.

"What's the matter with him?" asked one of the settlers. "Is he ill?"

"Is he sick? Do you think it's contagious?"

"He just fainted," said Damian who had approached the boy.

"How come?" asked Simms.

"I think he must have received too much emotional shock, but I'm not sure."

"We should take him to Church in that case," said the Sheriff. "He'll know what the kid has. The rest of you guys go home."

"There, help me take him."

Lucy helped Damian pick up the boy and carried him to Doc Church's cabin. Behind him, he could hear Simms giving orders to Stockholm and the other guards. When Lucy arrived in front of the cabin, she knocked frantically at the door and called the doctor.

"What?" Church grumbled as he opened the door.

When he saw the young boy in Damian's arms, his annoyed look faded. He motioned for them to come in. Church closed the door behind him and led them into the back room.

"Put him there," Church ordered.

Damian gently laid the boy on the surgery table that the doctor had told him.

"What happened to him?"

"He was completely hysterical and terrified and passed out," Lucy explained worriedly.

"Do you think it could be due to a violent emotional shock? Or from the pressure coming down?" Damian asked.

"It's possible. You said he was terrified?"

"Yes," Lucy answered. "He kept talking about monsters chasing him and going to kill him."

Church quickly examined the child. He smoothed his white moustache, thinking silently.

"Well, Doc?" Lucy asked.

"I don't think he's in any danger. He just needs to rest. He should get better tomorrow."

Lucy let out a small sigh of relief. The door opened and Simms entered the clinic.

"So?"

"The kid's fine," the doctor said. "He's just passed out. We'll just have to be careful when he wakes up."

"Anything new outside?" Damian asked.

"No," Simms said, shaking his head. "No more scream, no more gunshot. Just darkness and that fucking rain."

He glanced at the boy before continuing.

"Whatever it was that terrorized this kid, it didn't follow him here."

The door opened again, and three men entered the clinic. One, supported by the other two, had a bloody face. Lucy let out a hiccup of stupor when she saw the condition of the wounded man. Simms and Damian exchanged a worried look.

"What happened?" asked the Sheriff.

"We were at Moriarty's and he got into a fight with Jericho. The bastard almost beat him to death."

Simms could not help but let relief show on his face. A bar fight was something he could handle, unlike the mysterious monsters that had terrified the boy and were probably lurking in the dark.

"Put him there," sighed Church, who must have been disappointed to see his evening so hectic.

The two men put the third man in a chair. The wounded man was barely conscious and almost fell off the chair every time his companions dropped him.

"I'll have to treat him urgently," said Church. "I'm not going to be able to take care of the kid with all this."

"I'm going to do it."

Simms, Damian and Church turned to Lucy. The young woman looked at them in turn and approached the child. A slight friendly smile lit up her face.

"As you wish, Miss West," said Church. "But as soon as he wakes, avoid any violent emotion."

"I've got a little brother 10 years younger than I do, I know how to handle a child."

Church shrugged.

"Could you help me set him up in my house?"

Damian nodded. He gently took the young boy in his arms and left the clinic. Lucy led them to her home. They walked past Damian's house and the cabin next to his.

"I need to have a talk with Jericho," Simms growled as he approached the door of the cabin.

"Be careful Sheriff," said Lucy.

"Don't worry," Simms smiled.

"Need any help tonight?" Damian asked.

"No, that should do it. I'll activate the Armory Mister Gutsy to help patrol the outskirts of town for the night. But keep me posted. If the stuff that chased that kid comes through here, I want to know what it is."

Simms knocked on the cabin door and it opened. Damian recognized the man with the shaved head, hard face and murderous look who had threatened him when he arrived at Megaton. The man blew out the smoke from his cigarette and glanced an angry look at Simms and the others. He sighed and stepped aside to let Simms in before closing the door behind him.

Lucy's cabin was right next to Jericho's. It was a two-story hut, like Damian's, with the only difference that the roof also served as a walkway to the Moriarty's Saloon.

Lucy unlocked the door and invited Damian in. A gentle warmth, emanating from an old stove, engulfed Damian. Inside, the hut looked almost identical to Damian's cabin. The ground floor was soberly decorated. Old music and landscapes posters on the walls, a small round garden table, chairs, an old sofa with a hole in it and a shelf where various objects were piled up.

"I have an extra bed upstairs for when my brother comes to visit me. You can put him inside."

They went up the stairs and Damian put the boy on a metal bed. Lucy gently laid a blanket over the child before backing up.

"I feel like I can see myself taking care of Ian when he was sick, and our parents had to help out outside Arefu."

She sighed and crossed her arms looking at the young boy.

"Were there children in your Vault?"

Damian was a little startled by the question.

"When I was a child, yes. I was one of the last generation of children born in the Vault."

"It must have seemed crazy to think that people could still have children in this devastated world when you had just come out of the Vault."

"The human race is the kind that perseveres," Damian replied with a slight smile. "And I'm quite happy that I was able to find friendly people and not just mutants or feral ghouls."

They remained silent for a few seconds, staring at the child.

"Do you know if there are any settlements around Megaton?" Damian asked.

"Well, when I left Arefu, I came straight here. I wanted to go and live in Rivet City, but the outskirts of the ruins of D.C. are often occupied by bandits or mutants. But, to answer your question, I have no idea. Directly East, you have the suburbs of D.C., and I can't imagine anyone living there, given its proximity to downtown."

Lucy took a short break before resuming.

"You've been in before, haven't you? Downtown D.C.?"

"Yes, I've been. Several times."

Damian rubbed his hands, a little embarrassed.

"I can stay for a while, if you like," he said, masking his embarrassment. "In case you need any help."

The young woman blushed and turned to the child again to mask her embarrassment.

"Ye… Yes, that's very kind of you."

Damian came down the stairs. He sat down on the couch and began to check the condition of his Pip-Boy. After a few seconds, he heard murmurs coming from upstairs. As he listened, he realized that it was Lucy, who was speaking softly to the boy.

Damian continued to go through the options of his Pip-Boy, thinking about what had happened to the boy.

_"Anything out there can seem terrifying for a boy his age. But I have a feeling it's something no one has ever seen in the Wasteland."_

Damian slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on a couch in a tin shack that was unknown to him. He straightened up and looked around, before he remembered that he was at Lucy West's house. The gentle warmth of the day before was still there, but in a weaker way. Damian rubbed his limbs numb from the cold and looked at his Pip-Boy's clock. 6:30am.

He stretched and stood up silently and climbed the stairs. Lucy had fallen asleep in her bed, and the boy was still unconscious, but his face seemed more peaceful than the day before. He returned to the ground floor and left the hut in silence. It was still dark outside.

During the night he had been thinking about what might have attacked the boy. The boy had no wounds or bites on his body, and his panic attack and his comments about several _"monsters"_ made Damian say that he must have been attacked by animals or mutants. Damian could not imagine that such a young boy could live alone in the ruins or the Wasteland. He was probably part of a caravan or a small community that was attacked or destroyed during the night and ran away. The boy had come from the East, from the suburbs of D.C. and the ruins. So, it was likely that he was attacked by Super Mutants or feral ghouls.

The Super Mutants were confined to the downtown ruins, around Vault 87 and a few places in the Wastes and Damian knew they were willing to travel long distances to capture people and bring them back to Vault 87.

He could also have been attacked by feral ghouls. If the child lived near the ruins, it was almost certain that ferals were there. Many people had taken refuge in the metro or buildings during the Great War, and if those who had not died of radiation poisoning had turned into ghouls, they would continue wandering in the ruined buildings or metro stations and tunnels. The feral ghouls would attack anything that passed by on sight and might well have attacked this boy.

A pack of hungry stray dogs could also have been responsible, as well as a group of Deathclaw, but Damian rejected that last idea, as he was sure the kid would have never reached Megaton.

The possibility that the Enclave had gone after the boy was running through Damian's mind. The helmets on their power armor made them look like nightmare monsters or insects. The vision of an Enclave squad in full power armor on a rainy night would have terrorized the boy and made him run away for sure.

Damian rejected this idea too. The Enclave had already distinguished itself by its cruelty to the people of the Capital Wasteland, and had massacred several small farms south of Megaton, but their open conflict with the Brotherhood had probably put an end to these exactions, and the loss of Raven Rock and the disappearance of Autumn and Eden had probably triggered a change of command and behavior among their troops.

Damian sighed and pushed the door of his hut before closing it behind him. Wadsworth, his butler Mister Handy, floated gently into a corner. The robot left its standby mode and turned its three eye appendages toward Damian.

Damian quickly waved hello to the robot and headed to the kitchen. He helped himself to breakfast and sat down on the sofa. Wadsworth kept the cabin stocked with food and made sure it was always in perfect condition.

"Tell me, Wadsworth, is there anything you can do to keep this place warm?"

_"I can ask for heaters to be installed for you, Sir, but I'm afraid that would mean a large increase in your rent."_

"As long as I don't freeze to death."

Damian went up to his room and took off his poncho and threw it carelessly on the bed. The sweater he had bought from Moira was enough to keep him warm, but he was sure he would not have time to get cold if he had to run around when, or if, the assault on the Enclave base took place.

His Brotherhood radio was always silent. Damian thought of going to the scene to ask for news, but he knew that Tristan's reconnaissance patrol was not yet due to arrive on the scene.

Damian heard someone knocking on the door and Wadsworth about to open it. Damian came out of his room. Simms was in the hallway, his beige duster and cowboy hat soaked and dripping with water, looking inside the cabin.

"Something wrong, Sheriff?"

"Kid just woke up."

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**The dialogue between the two guys in the Brass Lantern does not really add anything to the story, but I wanted to put it, as a way to show how life in the Wastes goes on while Damian travels and fights.**

**Until next time.**


	58. Chapter 58: Playing with fire

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

Lucy was upstairs in her house, near the stairs. The boy's complexion was still pale, but the terrified look he had had the day before was gone. Instead, he looked a little lost and stared worriedly around him.

"I had gone downstairs to prepare you some food, when I heard him wake," said Lucy, turning to Damian. "As you were gone, I called the sheriff."

She approached the boy and crouched down by the bed.

"Hey, good morning. How are you feeling?"

"Uh... Fine, I guess."

The boy was staring at Damian and Simms. Lucy looked briefly over her shoulder and smiled at the boy.

"Don't worry, you're safe here. Can you tell us your name?"

"Bryan. My name is Bryan Wilks."

"Hello, Bryan. I'm Lucy West. The gentleman in the hat is Lucas Simms, our Sheriff, and this is..."

The door opened and Dr. Church's voice was heard. Simms told him they were upstairs, and the old doctor went upstairs.

The young woman turned to Damian, a little embarrassed to speak his name out loud. Damian noted in a corner of his mind that he would have to put an end to the embarrassment with the young woman and replied.

"Damian. Damian Franklin."

Bryan gave them a shy smile.

"Are you hungry? I'll go grab you something to eat."

Lucy walked away and went downstairs, leaving Church to examine the boy.

Damian looked at the child. He had no idea how to deal with children, at least with children that did not taunt him and wave a gun at his face, like MacCready.

"Hi there boy, name's Church, I'm a doctor. I'll just need you to do a few things for me, you okay with that?"

The boy nodded shyly.

"Anything happened during the night?" Damian whispered.

"No, all quiet on the Megaton Front. Whatever attacked that poor kid, did not bother to chase him here."

Church had finished examining Bryan and turned to Simms.

"Nothing abnormal, but I'm not entirely sure. Be careful not to rush him."

"Thank you, Church."

The doctor took his leave, leaving Simms and Damian alone with the boy. The Sheriff straightened the brim of his hat and approached Bryan.

"Hello, boy. Say, can you tell me where you're from?"

"Yes," replied the boy after a brief hesitation. "I'm from Grayditch. My father said it was not far from a place called Megaton."

"Okay, well, welcome to Megaton." Simms smiled.

He crouched next to the bed.

"Do you remember what happen to you last night?"

The boy nodded in silent. Simms looked over his shoulder as Lucy came up with a plate full of food that she gave to the child.

"These... Things. They kept coming and they started chasing me."

"Could you tell us what these things look like, Bryan?"

"You have nothing to worry about here," Lucy smiled. "I promise."

Bryan seemed to search for his words for a few seconds.

"They're awful things that walk on six legs, with big teeth. My daddy used to call them _"fucking ants"_."

Damian exchanged glances with Simms and Lucy. So, it was a colony of mutated ants that had attacked Bryan, the same kind Damian had seen when he arrived at Megaton. Damian saw the young boy shivering. The mere mention of these creatures gave him a chill, and Damian could not blame him.

"Tell me, Bryan," Lucy asked. "Could you tell us what happened?"

The young boy nodded shyly. He told Damian and the others that several days ago giant ants had come out of the ground. According to the boy, the ants had attacked him, his father and the other people living in Grayditch, forcing him to flee.

Lucy stayed with the boy and chatted with him, while Simms and Damian had gone downstairs to talk.

"Have you ever heard of this place, Grayditch?" Damian asked quietly.

"Two or three times," Simms answered. "It's a small place, not far from here in the Southeast. As far as I know, it borders the ruins of downtown D.C. and people don't like to venture there."

"And you think these giant ants are something that happens a lot?"

"No," sighed the sheriff. "Well, every once in a while, there are some that come roaming around Megaton or Springvale School, but nothing too bad. Stockholm or the others can target practice at them. But this is the first I've heard of a local being attacked by a bunch of these things. I think we're gonna have to get to the bottom of this."

Damian raised his head upstairs.

"Do you think these ants could come after Megaton?"

"I don't know, kid. But I'll sleep better knowing those things are all dead. And that kid can go home."

Lucy joined them, carrying the plate of food, empty.

"How is he feeling?" Simms asked.

"He looks good, I mean, as good as a nine-year-old kid who just got chased by giant insects can look good."

"Do you think he could tell us more about those ants?" Damian asked.

"You heard Church. We mustn't rush him, but I think we can give it a shot."

Lucy did not seem very keen on the idea but did not say anything about it.

"Excuse me?"

Bryan had stood up and watched Damian and the others from the top of the stairs.

"What's wrong, big boy?" Lucy asked as she approached him with a comforting smile.

"Can... Can you find my daddy?"

The question pierced Damian's heart. He could easily imagine the distress Bryan was feeling at that moment.

"I'm going to find your dad, Bryan. I promise you that."

The boy turned to Damian and gave him a big smile.

"Could you tell me a little more about, Grayditch?"

Bryan sat down on one of the stairs and Damian approached him.

"It was nice. No one was bothering us, because we were next to the ruins."

"And you lived alone with your father?"

"No, there were the two of us, my friend Will Brandice, his mom, dad and brother. There was also a person I don't know and a weird guy with another shinny guy who talks funny. He said his name was Dr. Lesko, but my dad called him an _'egghead'_, but I never understood why."

Damian glanced over his shoulder at Simms and Lucy.

"Listen, Bryan," he said. "I know it's hard, but... I need you to tell me how you were attacked."

Bryan searched for his words for a few moments.

"It was at night. I was asleep in my room when I heard screams outside. My dad came in and told me to hide. I heard people shooting and shouting in the street and my daddy said, _"shoot for their antenner"_. Then he came back into the room and told me to run away. I jumped out the window and ran."

"Okay. Can you tell me what your dad looks like?"

"He's very tall, he has short hair like you and he always wear his black sweater with a hood and big cowboy boots."

Bryan lowered his head and Lucy came and sat next to him and rubbed his back and shoulder as a sign of comfort.

"I'm going to tell Stockholm and the others that we're dealing with a bunch of giant ants," said Simms. "Now that we know what they are, the guys won't be so nervous, and they'll stop thinking we're going to be attacked by Super Mutants. If you go in there, kid, you better watch out."

Simms tapped Damian's shoulder and left the cabin.

"Can you tell me more about Grayditch? What's it like?" Damian asked, turning to Bryan.

"It's pretty small. There's an old Diner, a small parking lot and several brick houses. Oh, and there's also one of those grey bomb shelters next to the Diner."

"Okay, and your house. Can you tell me exactly where it was?"

"It's next to the Diner. There's a big sign with a lady and a bomb on it, and in the backyard is the shed my daddy built for Mr. Lesko."

"Thank you, Bryan," Damian smiles.

"You're going to find my daddy, aren't you?"

Damian nodded.

"Yes," Damian nodded his head. "I'm going to find him."

He came back downstairs, and seconds later, Lucy found him downstairs.

"I'm going to go check on Grayditch and try to find Bryan's dad."

"Be careful out there. I'll keep an eye on Bryan and take care of him."

Damian nodded silently and left the cabin. He stopped at home and picked up a few more magazines for his rifle. For a moment he thought of calling Fawkes or the Brotherhood for help, but he changed his mind. The Super Mutant was more useful to help Lyons and his troops if the situation with the Enclave ever got worse and he doubted that they could spare troops to chase giant ants.

Damian left Megaton in pouring rain and headed for the hills where Bryan had arrived. Below, he could see the Super-Duper Mart and the Potomac. To his right, several small two- and three-story office buildings and a few businesses heralded the suburbs of D.C., and Damian spotted a road that meandered between the buildings. He approached, keeping an eye on the windows of the buildings and listening carefully.

He came to a main road, the same kind he had followed with his father near Arlington. The road was lined with twisted lampposts and ruined buildings, slightly elevated.

Damian slalomed through the lines of car wrecks and fell on a sheet metal panel stuck in the ground. This panel indicated by an arrow the direction of Grayditch. Damian followed with his eyes the direction indicated by the arrow and saw a pedestrian bridge to cross the road. He climbed up the slope along the road and came to the footbridge. He followed the path, indicated by another sign, and arrived in front of a small, ruined residential area.

A makeshift barricade of tin and wood was in the middle of the road, with a welcome message and a warning for bandits. One- and two-story brick houses and small shops with exploded windows lined the deserted streets.

Damian passed the barricade and walked to the crossroads in front of him. On the right, the street continued for about 30 meters before being blocked by a barricade. An old car park surrounded by a fence was on its left and a little further on, an old _"Dot's"_ Diner.

A deadly silence reigned in the neighborhood, similar to that which encompassed the ruins of downtown D.C.. Damian took shelter behind one of the cars parked in the parking lot and, after observing the area again, ventured to call.

"Mr. Wilks?"

Only the echo of his voice, echoing against the concrete and brick walls of the buildings answered him. Damian sighed and walked towards the Diner.

Under the sign was a Pulowski Preservation shelter, and across the street was a small garden with a tin shed. The garden was adjacent to a brick house. On one of the walls, a large Nuka-Cola billboard was hung. The three by four meters billboard showed a woman in overalls with a red bandana in her hair, sitting on a ladder next to an atomic bomb, with the message _"Nuka Break"_ written on it. The woman was holding an open bottle of Nuka-Cola in her hands and seemed to be inviting Damian to have a toast with her.

Damian approached the hut when he heard a whisper on his right. Coming out of a destroyed house, an ant, the size of a dog and ochre-colored, was crawling slowly on the sidewalk. The creature's antennae were waving in all directions. The ant swung on its six legs and slammed its mandibles before moving towards Damian. The ant was moving slowly, and Damian calmly raised his rifle, when the ant raised its head towards him and began to spit fire. Damian jumped to the side. The stream of flame had just missed him, but he could feel the heat on his face.

"What the fuck?" he cried.

The ant kept crawling towards him. Damian retreated back to the parking lot. At the end of the street, he could see more of these ants walking and waving their antennas. Damian raised his rifle and fired a burst at the fire-spitting ant. The bullets pierced the insect's shell at the head in a cracking sound, before the creature collapsed onto the asphalt.

Damian glanced at the other ants in the street. They hadn't noticed him and continued walking quietly.

If the ants occupied the streets of Grayditch, then the survivors must have been in the houses. Damian inspected the Diner. The place was empty and was not to be used by the inhabitants. He approached the tin shack. He heard some rattling behind him and saw that the ants were coming towards him. He left the shack and walked towards Bryan's house.

The door opened slightly. Something on the other side prevented it from opening fully. Damian looked over his shoulder, the ants had gathered around the corpse of their deceased kind and were waving their mandibles and antennae. Damian gave the door a great blow with his shoulder and it gave way under his weight. Damian entered, headfirst, and landed on the ground, nose to nose with an ant. He jumped, rolled to the side, and kicked the insect in the head. The ant didn't move. Damian stood up with a sigh. He glanced out into the street and closed the door behind him.

The entrance to the house was empty, except for the ant's corpse. Damian lit his flashlight and entered further into the house.

The living room looked like a battlefield. Several dead ants were lying on the floor, as well as a man's body. Damian approached. The man had one leg missing and burn marks on his face and arms. Damian crouched down beside the body. The man had a family resemblance to Bryan, and Damian assumed it was the boy's father.

Damian sighed and grabbed a piece of cloth from the floor to cover the body. He noticed that Bryan's father was holding something in his hands. A small key. Damian stowed the key in the pocket of his fatigue and after a last glance at the body of Bryan's father, returned to the street.

The ants were still around the corpse of their dead kind. Damian aimed up his rifle and eliminated them.

He looked down the street to the left and saw more ants. He felt as if for every ant he killed, three more appeared. The ants were all in red-orange hues and various sizes. Some were as big as Radroaches, while others were as big as an adult dog. Damian did not know if all these ants were spitting fire, but he was not particularly interested in seeing for himself.

He decided to inspect the other houses. Bryan's father had died, but perhaps there were other survivors besides the boy. In addition, he had to find the source of the ants and kill them, if he wanted the boy, and any survivors, to be able to come back to live here.

Damian crossed the street and entered the house opposite Bryan's house. This house was similar to Bryan's, minus the dead ants. The entrance, dimly lit by stripes of light from the caulked windows, had only a coat rack fixed to the wall and a chair. The living room, like everything else on the ground floor, was plunged into darkness, giving the impression that the owners had left in a hurry.

The bathroom was empty. Searching the kitchen, Damian found an old double-barrel shotgun and some cartridges. He decided to take them, thinking that extra firepower against the ants was welcome. Damian went upstairs. The room was occupied by three beds, one of which was double. A terminal was placed on a desk.

"Maybe the owner wrote something about where those ants came from," Damian said.

Damian turned it on and saw that the terminal was locked. Although he had the feeling that he was prying into people's privacy, he decided to hack into the computer.

Damian grumbled and scratched his chin. The special command Stanley showed him to hack into a terminal did not work. All he could see was a screen asking him to type in the password. Damian looked on the desk for a clue, but it was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

He went back into the entrance of the house and opened the door to make sure the way was clear. There were two ants in the street and a third one seemed to be sniffing, if these things were able to sniff, the door of a house next to the one where Damian was.

The two ants waved their antennae and turned at the same time to Damian, who raised his weapon and eliminated them. The third ant faced him. Damian took him out, too, but more ants began to approach.

Damian slammed the door shut and went back inside the house, before going upstairs. He approached one of the bedroom windows. The room had not been blocked. Damian grabbed the terminal on the desk and yanked to unplug the power cables. He took his momentum and threw the computer through the broken window. Damian glanced outside. He saw that the terminal had crushed the head of an ant in its fall. He stepped over the broken window and jumped into the street below.

The ants were all gathered in front of the door of the adjacent house. Damian was standing on the corner of the street behind a large blue mailbox. From here, he could eliminate the ants without any problem and without exposing himself to their stream of flames. Wanting to save the ammunition from his rifle, he drew his pistol and leaned against the mailbox.

His target moved as he fired, and the bullet missed the ant's head but severed an antenna.

A strange thing happened. The ant stopped for a brief moment, then raised its head to its fellow ants and spat fire. Two ants were caught in the flames and Damian heard their shells crack and fall off in the heat. The ant then turned to another ant and began to bite it with its mandibles.

Damian watched the scene, intrigued. It was obvious that the ant's antennae had been destroyed, driving it completely mad. Damian wanted to verify his theory, but the ant had just killed its fellow ant and started spitting little flames at himself. Damian eliminated it and approached the house.

Apparently, there was something inside the house that attracted the giant insects. The door was locked, and Damian entered through a window. The place was pitch black. Damian swept the living room with the beam of his lamp. The house was in the same condition as the others.

Damian inspected the ground floor, then went upstairs. He entered the only room, a bedroom. The beam of his lamp caught something behind the bed. Damian entered the room and pointed his gun and heard a little hiccup of fear.

A woman was crouching behind the bed and raised her arms to Damian. She must have been in her early twenties and was wearing leather pants and a leather jacket over a brown sweater. Her brown hair fell to her shoulders and her small hazelnut eyes looked terrified at Damian.

"Don't be afraid," Damian said.

He immediately backed away until he found himself outside the room. The young woman continued to stare at him in fear and Damian could not help but to remind himself of the girl in Tenpenny Tower.

"Oh, please God, please, please, please, don't hurt me!" sobbed the young woman.

"I mean you no harm. Look, I'm putting my gun down."

Damian lowered his rifle and let it hang across his chest.

"See, I won't hurt you, I swear."

The young woman got up slowly and lowered her arms. Damian gave her a comforting smile and tried to look relaxed, despite the fact they were in a town full of giant fire-spitting ants.

"Please don't hurt me. I have some caps in a drawer in the kitchen, but please don't hurt me…"

"Hey, hey, hey, relax. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm a friend of Bryan Wilks. He asked me to come here to check on his father."

"Bryan?" the young woman said. "The little boy from the house next to the Diner? Is he okay?"

"Yes," Damian answered. "He is safe, in Megaton."

The young woman startled when they heard a noise outdoor and she grabbed her arms and nervously looked at the window.

"My name is Damian, what's yours?"

"I'm Denise."

"Do you live here, Denise?"

"Y… Yes. I just moved in a few days ago, but, uh, these ants, they..."

"Yeah, I know about the ants," Damian said. "Look, Denise, are there other people hiding here?"

"I... No... No, I don't know. It was dark when all this happened, I just had time to get dressed and hide."

Damian came into the room. The young woman moved back, but Damian's raised his arms and backed away again.

"All right. I'm gonna go take care of these ants. Do you know where they're coming from?"

"No, I don't really know. They were already there when I arrived, but I remember that scientist Lesko seemed very interested in them."

"Do you know where I might find him?"

"No..., I'm sorry, I don't know at all."

"It's okay," Damian said with a smile."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small key.

"I found that key in the Wilks' house. You wouldn't happen to know what it's for, would you?"

Denise approached timidly. Damian was careful not to make any moves that might scare her. The ants frightened her, but she seemed to have had other traumatic experiences with humans and Damian had no difficulty imagining what. With a trembling hand, she took the key and looked at it.

"I think it belongs to Lesko. He kept complaining that he was going to lose it, so he asked Mr. Wilks to keep a spare for him."

"Okay," Damian smiled. "Look, Denise, I'm gonna go check Lesko's cabin and see if I can find any other survivors. I want you to stay here and wait for me to come back. Can you do that for me?"

"What? No! Please! I don't want to stay here alone! Please don't leave me alone!"

Damian raised his hand to tell her to be quiet and the young woman put her hand over her mouth, horrified that the ants heard her. There was silence in the house.

"Okay, okay, Denise. I'm not leaving you alone here. Do you know how to use a gun?"

Denise shook her head. Damian scratched his chin while thinking.

"Now, you're going to come with me, but I want you to stay by my side, and do exactly as I say. Okay?"

The young lady nodded tentatively. Damian reached out his hand. The young woman grabbed it, trembling.

"We're going to see this Lesko's cabin, hoping we'll find someone there, or if not, something about these ants. If it's safe, I want you to hide there, and wait for me to come back okay?"

"Y… Yes."

Damian came down the stairs with the young woman at his heels. He glanced down the street. He could feel Denise's hand grasp on his. They crossed the street to the cabin. Damian tried the key in the lock, which unlocked. He closed the door behind them.

The cabin was very small. A small metal desk was set up in one of the corners, with a terminal and a maintenance box for Protectron. Several blackboards were set up against the walls and many piles of papers were piled up, as well as chemistry utensils.

"What can you tell me about this Lesko?" Damian asked.

"He spent most of his time here, but he left a few days before the ants attacked us."

Damian searched the hut. He found a holotape that he inserted into his Pip-Boy. A man's eccentric voice escaped from the speakers.

_"This must be the fifth time I've forgotten the password to my desktop terminal. I really need to learn how to get organized. The password is "Formicidae," but it's not hard for me to remember."_

_"Formicidae"_. The Latin name for ant. One more clue. Damian sat down in front of the terminal and immediately Denise came closer to him. Damian felt a little strange that minutes before she was scared to death and that now she was inches from him. He entered the password. He doubted that this Lesko could have created the giant ants, but he must have been responsible for their presence at Grayditch.

The terminal contained research notes. As he leafed through them, Damian discovered that Lesko had been conducting experiments on the local giant ant population, with the goal of returning them to their pre-war tiny size. He seemed to have a high opinion of himself and his work and had moved to a nearby metro station, where he had found a specimen to experiment on.

"Do you know where Marigold's metro station is?" Damian asked as he turned off the terminal.

"I know there's a metro exit in Grayditch. I think it leads to the ruins of downtown D.C.. Do you think that..."

"Only one way to find out."

He looked at the cabin and turned towards the young woman.

"Look, Denise, I want you to stay here. I'm gonna go find Lesko and put an end to this."

He gave the key to the young woman and started for the door.

"No, no, no, please! Don't leave me here alone!"

"If the anthill is in the metro station, I'll have a hard time protecting you. You're safe here. Don't make any noise and you'll be fine."

Damian grabbed the double-barrel shotgun he found in the house.

"I... I don't know how to use this," said the young woman, staring at the gun.

"Just to be sure. Here, look."

Damian showed her how to reload the gun and, even though he did not trust her completely, handed it to her.

"Lock the door behind me. If I'm not back in three hours, leave. You'll find a town to the Northwest. Follow the road, keeping the ruins of D.C. in your rear right, and go through the hills, you'll see a large metal structure. You'll be able to get in without any trouble, and you'll have to tell Sheriff Lucas Simms all about it. All right?

Denise swallowed her saliva and grabbed the gun with both hands. She looked up, begging for Damian.

"I... I don't want to die," she sobbed.

Damian didn't know what to say. Taking the young woman with him was too risky. He could escort her back to Megaton, but he was wasting valuable time finding other survivors. Even if he did not like the idea of leaving her here alone, he had to make up his mind to do so.

A tremor shook the hut. Damian stepped back towards the door and watched the few planks on the floor rise up.

"Come towards me! Hurry!"

Denise was casting horrified glances around her. She raised her head to Damian and rushed towards him, just as a crater was forming beneath her feet. The young woman slipped to the ground and caught up with Damian's hand.

The head of an ant sprang out of the hole in the ground and grasped the young woman at the waist with its mandibles. Denise screamed as she was drawn into the hole. Damian still held the young woman by the hand and pulled to keep her from being sucked in. He grabbed his gun and tried to aim, but the ant was too close to the young woman.

Amidst the screams of terror and pain, Damian could hear creaking and tearing. Damian caught the young woman's eye. He could see in her eyes an expression of extreme terror.

Denise's clothes were beginning to stain with blood. Damian's hand slipped. He rolled backwards and hit the door. The young woman screamed as the ant lured her into the hole. Damian dove forward and grabbed the young woman by the arm.

He felt himself sliding on the ground. Denise had almost disappeared into the hole. Damian straightened up and leaned on his legs. He received a sheaf of dirt in his face that forced him to close his eyes. Damian felt that all the force of the ant was gone. He stumbled backwards, still holding Denise by the arm.

The ant went back down into the hole, while two smaller ones came out. Damian looked down at the young woman and saw that her body had been severed just below the chest. Denise's face was frozen in an expression of terror, her bust lying motionless on the ground. Damian swore and grabbed his assault rifle. He knocked out one of the ants and kicked it a second before crushing its head.

New ants were coming out of the hole. Damian emptied the rest of his magazine on them. He undid the grenade belt around his waist and pulled the pin out of one of them before throwing them into the hole.

Damian ran outside. He heard the detonation behind him. He inserted a new magazine into his rifle and turned around, ready to fire. There were no ants. Damian approached cautiously and went back inside the cabin. The hole dug by the insects was blocked. The walls of the hut were strewn with blood and sheaves of earth.

What was left of Denise's body was at Damian's feet.

"Fuck!" he cried, kicking in an ant's head.

He sighed and took one last look at the young woman before walking away.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Until next time.**


	59. Chapter 59: Science, Mr Franklin!

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Today, Damian continue his eradication of the fire ants.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

While searching for the entrance to the station, Damian came across several giant ants and systematically eliminated them. He had also stumbled upon several of these holes in the ground where the ants seemed to be coming out.

Damian looked out the windows of the houses, looking for survivors. All hope evaporated when he found charred human bodies in an alleyway.

The Marigold metro station was just on the edge of Grayditch, at the foot of a large administrative building, lined with columns, with an architecture similar to that of the Mall museums.

Several small ants were wandering around the entrance to the station. After getting rid of them, Damian approached the still legible information panel next to the stairs leading underground.

According to the plan, the line under his feet led to Falls Church. Damian had heard soldiers of the Brotherhood talking about it. The area consisted mainly of old office buildings and abandoned company headquarters.

Come to think of it, a metro station and its tunnels provided an ideal environment for an ant colony. Also, if there were natural caves in the vicinity of the tunnels, as there were with the Mirelurks living between Northwest Seneca and Meresti stations, then these insects had certainly made their home there.

The gate closing access to the station was open. Damian rushed in and lit his flashlight. The hallway leading to the station was identical to all the others Damian had been able to cross. Bricks and earthenware walls where all sorts of posters were piled up, small lamps in the slightly arched ceiling, small piles of rubble on the floor.

Damian walked past the ticket office and the map of the capital's metro system and jumped over the barrier of turnstiles. The corridor continued for several more meters, before opening onto the station platform.

Right next to the turnstiles was a metal door leading to a maintenance room. The door was blocked a few centimeters above the ground, making it impossible to pass through. Damian walked away from the door. He was not sure if a giant ant could get through, at least not the biggest ones.

The station had suffered the ravages of time. The canopy above his head had several holes, allowing daylight and rain to pass through. Damian could hear several ants on the platform below and around him. He swept the platform with the beam of his flashlight. In the center of the platform was an old information desk, where Damian could see the abdomen of an ant wiggling.

Damian decided to keep a low profile. He took one of the rusty escalators to the docks. The tracks to his left were impassable. Damian noticed a small line of ants coming out of one of the lanes on his right. He took the adjacent tunnel, hoping to reach the source of the insects.

After a hundred meters, Damian saw a light at the end of the tunnel.

"Don't go towards the light," he murmured with a bitter smile.

The tunnel split in two and made it possible to continue underground. Damian went through it and arrived in front of a stationary train. He managed to squeeze between the wall and the train car, but had to go through the maintenance space between the two tunnels to continue on his way.

Two ants the size of Radroaches turned their backs on him, next to the consoles adjusting the switches. The insects slammed their mandibles and Damian saw that they were feeding on the corpse of a man.

The line of ants he had seen in the station came from a hole in the tunnel wall. Strangely, none of them seemed to notice Damian's presence. He continued to follow the tunnel, which ended in a dead end.

Damian looked over his shoulder. Perhaps he had missed a crossroads or missed a path into the anthill.

He heard noises coming from behind a metal door on the side of the tunnel. Damian raised his rifle and slowly approached. He stuck his ear to the door and tried to listen.

The door slid open with a whistle and opened on a man in a white lab coat, holding a gun. When the man saw Damian, he screamed, which startled Damian and gave him a hiccup of surprise.

The man in the lab coat stared at him for a few seconds, holding his chest. He took a deep breath and grabbed a handkerchief from his blouse pocket and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"You scared me!" the man said in an indignant tone.

Damian ran his hand over his face, grunting. He too had been surprised and felt his heart explode in his chest. He looked up at the man. He was in his late forties, had a bald head and hair on his temples, as well as his beard, was white. He wore a small pair of glasses that he kept straightening over his nose and had a somewhat stupid look on his face.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that," said the man.

Damian then recognized the voice he had heard on the holotape from Lesko's hut.

"Scare you?" Damian replied angrily. "What about me?"

"Yes, well, it seems we got off on the wrong foot. I'm Dr. Weston Lesko, a man of science, and you are?"

"So, you're the scientist responsible for the ants, aren't you?"

Lesko seemed flattered and invited Damian into the room he was in. The old metro maintenance room had been converted into a laboratory. Damian glanced into the tunnel and closed the door behind him.

"I see that you have heard about my work," said Lesko. "However, as much as I would love to discuss this with you, I have to get back to my experiments."

"So, you're really trying to reduce the size of these bugs?"

"Yes, by injecting a mutagen into the eggs laid by the queen, I'm trying to return these misunderstood creatures to their former size."

While talking, Lesko was looking at a large blackboard with a multitude of calculations written on it.

"Are you aware that your ants have become walking flamethrowers?"

"Yes, it's... It's quite embarrassing, I must admit..."

"'_Embarrassing'_?" Damian insisted. "People are dead!"

"Yes, it's a regrettable thing, but..."

Lesko's detached tone about the whole situation drove Damian crazy. He grabbed Lesko by the collar of his blouse and pinned him against the wall.

"You're a sick man! While you're playing God, your fucking ants ravaged Grayditch! Everybody's dead up there!"

Damian had only one wish, to knock out Lesko and destroy the whole anthill with a flamethrower. The image of Bryan, in the middle of a panic attack at Megaton and the imploring face of Denise just before her death, came back to his mind.

"I've tried to make people's lives better," Lesko cried out. "Before the bombs fell, these creatures were tiny! All I'm trying to do is make them back to their original size, so they're no longer a threat to us humans!"

"And it didn't occur to you that your experiment is failing? You should have started in a confined environment!"

"I was sure it would work..."

"You were so preoccupied with wether you could do it, that you didn't stop to think if you should!"

Damian stared at Lesko before releasing him.

"Look, the death of those people was, an unfortunate incident, but I've found a solution. I know how to reverse the mutagen."

"Enough experimenting, Lesko! We have to destroy the anthill!"

"You can't destroy it! If you kill the queen, months of work will be lost!"

Lesko pointed out the calculations on his board. Damian wanted to hit him. He controlled himself by clenching his teeth and crossing his arms.

"I know how to get rid of these ants without hurting the queen. I was able to install a terminal which I linked to the queen. On that terminal is an inhibiting pulse program. If we can send that pulse, it will disrupt the link between the queen and the rest of her colony. If the colony loses the link, then the ants should kill each other.

The scientist observed Damian, satisfied with his presentation.

"So, what do you say?"

"If it'll stop those ants from burning to the surface, I'm in."

"Wonderful!" Lesko smiled.

He walked to the back of the lab and unlocked a maintenance door that led to a metro tunnel. The tunnel was only about ten meters long and ended in a hole in the ground.

Damian sat down at the edge of the hole and let himself slide against the wall and came to a rocky floor. The anthill was in a natural cave. Several small ants were busy banging their mandibles against the looser walls to enlarge the galleries. Behind him he could hear Lesko, fascinated, whispering and watching the insects with a big smile.

"Which way?" Damian asked.

"It's that way."

Lesko was showing him the way. The ants digging the tunnels left them alone, unlike five much larger ants, which Lesko called _"the Quintet of Nest Guardians"_.

They arrived in a large room filled with stalactites. A table had been set up, as well as a terminal, connected to a large pump and a small transparent tank, where a greenish liquid was floating. The tank and pump were connected to cables that ran along the floor to the carcass of a Protectron on the floor.

"What did you use as a mutagen?" Damian asked.

"I've heard the FEV works wonders in a controlled environment."

"You injected FEV into those ants? Are you out of your mind?"

Lesko did not answer and walked towards the terminal and turned it on while mumbling incomprehensible words. He turned his head towards Damian and raised an eyebrow.

Damian was livid. He looked at the bottom of the cave. A huge brown mass was moving slowly. High as two Deathclaws, and as long as a bus, the queen of the anthill spread the long pair of wings on her back and stretched them out before retracting them. All around her, large oval eggs the size of Damian were carried or licked by a multitude of worker ants.

"Don't worry, they won't do anything to us," Lesko said as he tapped on the terminal.

The ant queen waved her antennae and snapped her mandibles. With lightning speed, she turned to Damian and Lesko and moved towards them. Damian raised his weapon, but Lesko intervened.

"No! If you kill the queen, all my work will be undone!"

Damian pushed the scientist and approached the terminal. He selected the option that would allow him to destroy the mutagen. Lesko came up behind him and looked over his shoulder.

"Why did you do this?"

"Shut up!" Damian shouted.

He sent the inhibition pulse. The ants stood still and began to kill each other.

"Get out of the way!"

Damian jumped back. Lesko turned and hiccupped in terror, just before the queen trampled on him. One of the legs hit Damian and threw him to the ground. He rolled on his side to avoid being run over and crawled to the exit. Looking over his shoulder, he realized the impulse had caused the worker ants were in a frenzy and attack the queen. In the struggle, the giant ant crushed Lesko's terminal and the equipment containing the FEV.

Damian ran to the exit of the anthill. All around him, the ants were tearing each other apart with their mandibles. The same scenes of carnage were repeated in the metro tunnels. Damian returned to the Marigold station, avoiding the ants as much as possible.

The insects in Grayditch were all dead or dying. Their frenzy had caused even more damage. Several houses were on fire and it was impossible to find a place in Grayditch without dead ants.

The town had become uninhabitable, especially for a child alone. Damian looked sadly at Lesko's hut, where Denise's remains were still lying. Lesko may have had good intentions in wanting to make the ants look like their pre-war ancestors, but his arrogance as a man of science had made him rush ahead and blamed him for the deaths of all those people. Damian sighed and left Grayditch in the direction of the Megaton Hills.

He arrived at Megaton an hour later and was greeted by Simms.

"So kid?"

"It was ants that attacked Grayditch. They... They killed everyone."

"Shit...," sighed the Sheriff.

"A scientist wanted to return them to their pre-war size, but by trying to play the God, he made these bugs even more dangerous."

"Tsss, looks like Mankind never learns."

"How's the boy?" Damian asked.

Simms looked towards the crater.

"He's doing well. He's been at Lucy's all morning."

Damian nodded silently. He walked slowly towards Lucy West's house. He had no idea how to tell a ten-year-old boy that his father had died, attacked by mutant ants, all because a scientist had had a whim to return a mutant species to its pre-war size.

He came to the cabin door and knocked. Lucy opened it and gave him a big smile. Her smile faded as Damian looked down. The young woman bit her lip and lowered her eyes. She let Damian in and closed the door behind him.

Bryan was sitting on the couch reading a comic book. When he saw Damian come in, he put down his comic book. The smile on his face faded away.

"Bryan... I'm... I'm sorry, but... Your dad is... Your dad is dead."

"I... I... I think I already knew that."

Lucy sat down beside him and put her hands on his shoulders.

"I don't even have the strength to cry."

Damian felt the tears rise in his eyes and his heart tighten.

"You don't have to hold back from crying, Bryan," said Lucy.

"You... You found other people? At Grayditch?"

"I... No, I was too late..." lied Damian.

"What about the ants?"

"They're all dead."

"I guess I'm going to have to go back and live there now. I hope you and miss Lucy will come visit me."

Damian closed his eyes to contain his tears. Lucy cried silently. The boy had just lost everything, and yet he showed remarkable courage.

"Do you think I'm going to be all right?" Bryan asked.

Damian knelt in front of the child.

"You know, Bryan, I lost my father not too long ago, too. I know how you're feeling right now. So, I'd like to give you some advice. You need to move on. Don't let it get you down. Even in this world, you'll find people you can count on, people who will help you. I'm sure you will."

Bryan gave him a sad smile. He sighed and seemed hesitant to get up for a moment.

"Do you have any family? Elsewhere in the Wasteland?" Lucy asked.

"Well, Dad often told me about my aunt, Vera. I've only seen her a few times, when we used to go on a big boat. Do you think she'll like me?"

"Yes, I'm sure she will," said Lucy.

Damian looked up at her. He did not want to give Bryan false hope. Lucy crossed her eyes and pursed her lips. Damian turned to Bryan and looked at him for a few seconds. He got up and checked his gear.

"I'm going to take you to Rivet City, to see your aunt."

"You will?"

"Yes," Damian answered.

Bryan's eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope.

"Cool!" he said.

He got up from the couch and walked to the door. Damian turned to Lucy who gave him a shy smile and a nod.

"Goodbye Miss Lucy! I hope you will come and visit me!"

The roads from Megaton to Rivet City were safer, since Damian had taken care of the gang that was attacking the water caravans. The Brotherhood and Rivet City security had also stepped up patrols and set up guard posts at key points.

Damian noticed that the Brotherhood members in charge of these guard duties were as young as he was, if not younger. They did not wear armor-assisted armor and were not equipped with laser rifles like their elders, but with old, damaged shotguns. The Brotherhood had really done the back burner and was concentrating all its forces in the war against the Enclave. Damian hoped inwardly that the reconnaissance team sent to Adams Air Force Base would soon report back.

"Wow!"

Damian was taken from his thoughts when he heard Bryan's voice. The young boy was watching the Brotherhood soldiers in charge of the Jefferson Memorial.

"Cool armor!"

Damian took the opportunity to ask one of the soldiers if he had any news about the recon team.

"No news. We are having trouble finding qualified personnel for this mission. Most of our Brothers and Sisters are already assigned to strategic positions in the Wastes and diminishing garrison troops could be very dangerous"

Damian thanked the soldier and set off again. They arrived in Rivet City and were greeted by the eternal coming and going of merchants and water wagons. Damian asked Bryan to remain close to him. The boy nodded silently and followed the young man, who was splitting the crowd on the boarding pier.

Damian saw Officer Lepelletier. The young woman oversaw security at the entrance of the ship and seemed to have delegated her work of organizing the water caravans. When she saw Damian, she greeted him.

"Hello, nice to see you around."

She looked down at Bryan and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you coming with your family?"

Damian shook his head vigorously and explained the situation to Lepelletier.

"I see," said the security guard. "This child's aunt must be Vera Weatherly, the manager of the Weatherly Hotel. Go through the hatch on the left and go to the middle deck, then to the upper deck."

The name sounded familiar to Damian and he remembered that this was where he had slept when he was looking for his father and just before they left to turn the purifier back on.

"Thank you, Officer Lepelletier."

Damian had not been back inside the ship since he had found the Declaration of Independence with Sydney and Emaline. He mumbled and tried to find his way back through the maze of corridors, his memories mingling with Lepelletier's explanations.

"Where the fuck is this fucking hotel? I'm sure the upper deck is that level, so where is it?"

After asking several people for directions, he finally arrived with Bryan in front of the hotel door.

Vera Weatherly was standing behind her hotel reception. When she heard Damian come in, she looked up and prepared to say hello, but stopped when she saw Bryan.

"Bryan? What the hell are you doing here? Where's Fred?"

The child ran into his aunt's arms and buried his head against her.

"Daddy's dead. Our house was destroyed by giant ants."

Vera Weatherly put her hand over her mouth and smothered a sob. She raised her head to Damian.

"I Recognize You, You're the young man who came here last month. You're the one who left with Dr. Li and her team, right?

"Yes," Damian said.

"Why are you here with Bryan? Is it... is it true? What he said?"

Vera hugged Bryan harder and did her best not to cry. Damian told her the whole story, deliberately omitting some details so as not to shock Vera or the child.

"Can you take care of him?" Damian finally asked.

Vera wiped the tears from her cheeks and looked at her young nephew.

"Of course," she smiled.

She smiled broadly at Bryan and embraced him again. Vera offered a reward to Damian who declined politely. Vera walked to the back of the room and opened a hatch, revealing a large room. Damian watched her explain to the boy where he was going to live and left the hotel.

"Can't you put a fucking map of that damn ship on the wall?"

Damian stood at the intersection of several passageways, looking left and right to try to find his way back to the exit.

About twenty minutes later, after getting lost again despite the signs and finding himself on the flight deck of the ship, Damian arrived at the market. The large line of visitors entering and leaving the large hangar where the Rivet City market was held showed him the way out and he hurried to the exit, wondering how he could get lost so easily here, when he had had no trouble wandering through the metro tunnels and ruins. Bryan's absence was being felt. No one to marvel at the power armor of the Knights of the Brotherhood, or to bombard Damian with questions about the wildlife of the Capital Wasteland.

The return trip went smoothly, and Damian entered Megaton and was greeted by Simms.

"How's it going, kid? Lucy tells me you went to Rivet City with the boy."

"Yeah, I was able to find him a place to live."

"Glad to hear that, kid."

He gave Damian a pat on the shoulder and walked away to resume his rounds near the crater.

Damian walked towards his house. He opened the door and heard a voice behind him. As he turned around, he saw Lucy walking towards him.

"So?" the young woman asked nervously.

"Bryan is safe. His aunt has agreed to take him in. He'll be all right."

Lucy looked relieved and smiled. She looked shyly at Damian.

"Da... Damian, I..."

_"Sir! I'm sorry! I offer you my sincerest apologies!"_

Wadsworth had just burst out of the house, almost knocking Damian out with his pliers.

"Hey, Wadsworth! What's going on?"

_"Sir, I'm sorry!"_

"Okay, let's just calm down, and explain everything from the beginning!"

The Mister Handy lowered his eye appendages and rubbed his spherical body with his pliers.

_"I went to Moira's house to buy you some heater for your house, as the temperatures are going to get colder and colder. When I wanted to make the connections in your room, I... I'm very sorry sir..."_

"Well, what did you do?" asked Damian.

In response, Wadsworth opened the small cache in his body and pulled out a broken picture frame and gave it to Damian.

Upon inspecting it, Damian realized it was the frame where the picture of him and Amata was located.

_"I know you care about this frame very much. I'm really sorry I broke it."_

Damian opened the frame and took out the picture. He felt Lucy tiptoe behind his back so he could look over her shoulder.

The picture was not much damaged, and Damian let out a sigh of relief in spite of himself. He turned to Wadsworth. The Mister Handy was obviously trying to imitate someone in trouble and Damian could not help smiling.

"It's okay, Wadsworth."

The robot raised his eyeballs in surprise.

"I don't care about the frame. All that matters is that the picture is still intact."

_"I'm sorry, Sir. I know how much this picture means to you, and how much the young woman in it means to you too."_

"I told you it was okay," Damian repeated. "You can go buy a new frame if that's making you feel better."

The robot agreed immediately and floated towards the eccentric saleswoman's shop. Damian looked at the picture and put it away in his armor.

He turned around and realized that Lucy was still there. She looked sad. Damian frowned and understood.

"I, er... I wanted to know if you think Bryan will be safe in Rivet City."

Damian hesitated for a few seconds.

"Yes, of course he will. It's not paradise, but it'll be nice there."

"I'm glad."

Lucy looked down and spoke in a tiny little voice.

"Excuse me, I have to go. My brother's coming to visit me tomorrow."

The young lady turned and moved quickly away to her house. Damian sighed and returned home.

"It was bound to happen at some point," he said as he went up to his room.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**I noticed that there is a mistake in the game, with Bryan and Vera. Sometimes they are aunt and nephew, sometimes they are cousins. I just picked one and went on with the story.**

**If you get the Jurassic Park reference, I'll love you forever.**

**Until next time.**


	60. Chapter 60: A land of mysteries

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Looks like I caught some of you by surprise with the previous chapters. Finding Grayditch completely deserted except for the ants (and Bryan), felt a little strange. What did the ants do the people? Did they bring them back to their lair? Eat them on the surface? Or did they survive and leave?**

**Anyway, today we start something new.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

Damian woke up slowly and yawned. A pleasant warmth filled his room. He and Wadsworth had finished installing an old electric radiator the day before and the Mister Handy had apologized again for breaking the picture frame. Damian could almost have thanked him for that, if he did not feel a bit bad for Lucy.

_"Good morning, Sir. Did you have a pleasant night?"_

Damian turned his head towards his bedroom door. His Mister Handy was standing in the doorway with a tray. He pushed back the sleeping bag in which he was wrapped, chasing Lucy's sad face away and beckoning Wadsworth to come in.

_"You seem disturbed, Sir. Is something troubling you?"_

"It's nothing, Wadsworth."

His gaze fell on the photo of him and Amata, posed on the desk in its new frame. He sighed and began to think about her. The anxiety began to grow inside him. Was she in good health? How had the Vault been since he left?

Many times he had looked up at the hills where Vault 101, his real home, was hidden, hesitating to go there and check that the door was still there, and that he had not dreamed about the last 19 years in the Vault.

Damian finished his meal and got dressed. He had decided to go to the Citadel and get news from the front and from Sarah. He also wanted to make sure that everything was going well between Fawkes and the Brotherhood. Although he did not have a bad feeling about leaving the Super Mutant in the Arlington Library with the Brotherhood, he was not sure that some of the soldiers would not _"accidentally" _mistake him for one of those Super Mutants in the ruins and shoot him in the back.

Damian sped off to the Library and was pleased to see that Fawkes and the various scribes present got along well.

"Anything I can do to help?"

A woman in a scribe's robe, brown hair, and an assault rifle slung across her shoulder stood behind him.

"Have you come to make sure your friend hasn't devoured us all or that we mistook him with the others who occupy the ruins?"

The scribe turned her head to Fawkes, still in great discussion with several scribes.

"Don't worry, Fawkes is... A remarkable person."

"You think?"

"Yes. For a human who's undergone mutations like his, he's kept his mind and some form of culture. A remarkable thing in this day and age, even more so for a Super Mutant. Oh, but I haven't introduced myself. I'm Scribe Yearling. In charge of this place."

Damian was about to introduce himself, but Yearling stopped him with a wave of her hand.

"Don't bother, I know who you are," she said with a smile. "Many of my Brothers and Sisters may never have seen you, but believe me, to us you are as famous as Maxson."

"Who's Maxson?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot. You're not entirely familiar with our Codex and our History."

Damian nodded. He knew the outline of what the Brotherhood called the _"Codex", _the equivalent of the Constitution for them. As for the History of the Brotherhood, Damian only knew about the Brotherhood's connection to the US Army and the fact that they were from the West Coast, but he did not know the rest.

"Maxson was... Let's put it simply, he was the one who started the Brotherhood of Steel right after the Great War. As a matter of fact, if you have time, you should pay a visit to his last descendant at the Citadel.

"I didn't know you had a dynasty within the Brotherhood."

"Arthur is destined to lead the Brotherhood one day, but for now, he's just studying."

Fawkes noticed Damian's presence and approached to greet him, ending the discussion.

"My friend," said the Mutant in his hoarse voice. "I'm glad to see you again."

"Looks like you've found your place here."

The Super Mutant looked around.

"This place is full of extraordinary archives and books. I'm grateful to you for getting me out of my prison, and for giving me the chance to find a place like this."

"You probably saved my life in the purifier the other day," Damian replied. "It's me who should be thankful to you."

The Super Mutant bowed slightly forward.

"Since you're here," said the scribe. "I wanted to ask if I could borrow Fawkes for a little while longer. His knowledge is remarkable, and he has a certain ability to find and compile the most interesting books."

Damian turned to Fawkes.

"It's up to you," he said.

"In that case, I'll stay," replied the Super Mutant. "If you need my help, I'll be here."

Damian left the building. He started to follow the library's façade until he reached the bank of the Potomac. On the other side, he could hear the roar of the purifier despite the distance. He thought of poor Scribe Bigsley, most likely collapsed with fatigue on his desk. Damian tried to imagine for a moment what Project Purity might have been like, if his father and mother were still alive.

His gaze turned to the shores of the South. More ruins were on the horizon and the river was full of small boats. Remnants of old pleasure and transport boats converted into old tubs by the locals. Damian heard a strange, deep sound. The sound was immediately followed by the sound of a bell.

Damian walked towards the sound. He walked along the river and behind the ruins of a building he came across the source of the noise.

At the end of a small wooden pontoon, a large boat he had never seen before. A large wooden rectangle resting on a metal hull. A green canvas mounted on metal bars covered a platform with several damaged wooden benches. Two large chimneys were coming out of the roof of the ship and spewing black smoke, as thick as the smoke from the Pitt factories.

Most impressive was the paddle wheel at the stern of the ship. Curious, Damian approached cautiously, wanting to know who might have owned it and, more importantly, how to operate it.

He arrived near the pontoon where several people were standing, leaning in front of a large wooden box where several strange objects were located. The objects were brown or pale green and looked like large fruits. Damian had never seen one like this before.

Damian noticed a man in his thirties, red-haired with a thick moustache, his skull hidden under a grey cap with a pair of motorcycle glasses, wearing black jeans, army boots and a white tank top under a large green army jacket. The man was carrying another crate containing more of these strange fruits that he placed in front of the onlookers. He stood up and grabbed one of the fruits and showed it to the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the incredible Punga fruit, native to the wilderness of the South. With this fruit, you don't have to spend all your caps on RadAway. This little marvel, if grown and well prepared, can cure the radiation doses you may receive during the year. It is also edible raw but..."

The man crunched into the fruit, just like someone would crunch into a raw carrot.

"... It's still better cooked with a bit of meat," the man grinned after chewing vaguely and swallowing his share.

The small crowd began to laugh, except for two people. Two women. Their faces were familiar to Damian and he was quite surprised to see them here.

Sydney and Emaline, the two relic hunters he had met in the ruins, seemed more interested in the boat than in the fruit in front of them.

The crowd rushed to buy the Punga fruit, and those who could not buy it ordered it from the man with the moustache. Damian took the opportunity to approach the two treasure hunters.

"Gosh!" exclaimed Emaline when she saw Damian. "The Legend himself!"

The small crowd lifted their heads towards him and looked at him curiously before shrugging and walking away.

"What are you doing here?" Sydney asked, giving Damian a smile.

"I heard a strange noise, so I came over and saw this boat."

"This beautiful ship that you see is called the Duchess Gambit."

Damian and the two women turned around to see that the man with the moustache had come towards them. He smoothed his moustache and wrapped the end of it around his fingertip.

"You, ladies, and sir, seem to have been everywhere in the Wasteland."

"What makes you say that?" asked Emaline.

The man pointed to his boat and then put his hand on his chest.

"My name is Tobar the boatman and this proud ship is The Duchess Gambit. With her I have sailed from the North side of the Commonwealth to the Broken Banks in the South. Unfortunately, the Duchess has too much damage to go out to high waters sea, and these waters are populated by creatures a little too big. But thanks to her, I can still make the connection between the Capital Wasteland and Point Lookout."

"Point Lookout? Where is that?" Sydney asked.

Tobar looked a little theatrical.

"Imagine, a land in the South, full of cultivated food, mysterious yet unexplored landscapes, full of treasures still untouched by looting."

Damian saw from the corner of his eye that the two young women seemed very interested. He had to admit that the idea of a place like Point Lookout was appealing. The desire for adventure had been on his mind for some time but he was not sure. His last escapade had taken him to Pitt and had turned out to disastrous.

"Tell me more," Emaline asked.

Tobar smiled beneath his moustache and began to describe to them a swampy land, full of treasures. According to him, all it took was a little research to find pre-war relics and become rich.

"How long does it take to get there?"

"If we leave right away, we can be there by late afternoon."

The two relic hunters looked at each other and heard each other. Sydney turned to Damian. He was about to refuse to go with them when he heard someone running behind him. He turned around and saw a woman, in her fifties, with ashen brown hair and a few wrinkles on her face, dressed in a Brahmin skin outfit, running towards them.

The woman stared at the boat and shouted.

"Nadine? Are you there?"

She saw Tobar and ran towards him.

"My daughter, Nadine, is she there?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," answered the boatman. "I haven't seen your daughter since I dropped her off the other day."

The woman seemed desperate. She turned to Sydney and Emaline who were heading towards the boat.

"You! You're going to Point Lookout? You have to help me!"

"You said your daughter left for Point Lookout?" Damian asked.

The woman turned to him. Her eyes filled with hope.

"Yes. She shipped out three weeks ago, and I've been worried about her ever since. If you go there, please, could you look for her? Just... To tell her that I miss her, and I want her back."

Damian turned his head to the boat. Sydney and Emaline looked at him, and Tobar seemed impatient.

"I'll do it," Damian finally said.

"Oh, thank you! Heaven bless you!"

The woman rummaged through her clothes and pulled out a little letter.

"When... If you find it, can you give this to her, and bring it back to me."

Damian took the letter and after looking at it quickly put it back in his armor.

"Could you describe your daughter to me?" Damian asked.

"Her name is Nadine. She is about your age and has red hair."

"Red like this woman?" Damian asked, discreetly pointing to Emaline.

The woman looked and shook her head.

"No. Nadine has the hair of a blazing orange. You can't miss her."

Damian walked towards the boat. Emaline and Sydney were talking to the boatman.

"350 caps for one ticket. Multiplied by three, that gives us..."

Tobar turned to a small abacus attached to one of the walls of the boat and quickly calculated the total sum. Damian looked at Sydney who was handing him his ticket.

"Since you intend to help this woman, and she doesn't seem to be very rich, it's better to save your caps."

"I could afford the crossing, but thank you," Damian replied.

Sydney shrugged.

"Anyway, I owe you for bringing me my father's holotape."

Tobar untied the moorings and walked to a door, revealing a small cabin containing several bunks, an old sofa, a safe and a small locker. Emaline settled into the sofa, while Sydney and Damian sat on the bunks. Tobar entered and looked at his passengers.

"Make yourselves comfortable. We'll be at Point Lookout in no time!"

He left the cabin and disappeared. Soon after, the noise that Damian had heard, which he identified as a foghorn, resounded and the ship began to move.

Through the porthole, Damian could see the Jefferson Memorial and the ruins of D.C. moving away. He laid down on the bunk, and rocked by the sound of the paddle wheel, fell asleep.

The foghorn woke Damian with a start. Emaline stood in front of a window and mechanically stroked the butt of her rifle. Sydney was lying on one of the bunks and woke up too.

"I think we're there," Emaline said, staring at the landscape through the window.

Sydney stretched out and stood up yawning before leaving the cabin. Damian followed her, imitated by the young redhead.

A beach stretched out in front of them. A wide strip of grey sand, emerging from the opaque water. Several shipwrecks were either stranded on the beach or drifting offshore. Behind the small dunes, Damian noticed several large trees.

Over the sound of the waves and the boat, he could hear a harmonica playing. He went up on the boat's bridge to the cockpit, where he found Tobar sitting facing the helm.

The boatman held a harmonica against his mouth and had his feet on the helm and steered his boat while playing.

Damian looked at the landscape. A peculiar aura emanated from this territory, of a rather unpleasant kind.

A fairly thick fog was floating over the water. Damian hoped inwardly that Tobar knew what he was doing by steering his boat this way, without really paying attention to what was in front of him.

"You told this woman that you dropped her daughter off here."

"Nadine? Hell of a girl. I would have thrown her in the water if she hadn't reminded me what I was like at her age."

"Could you tell me more about her?"

"She's a redhead in her 20s, pretty cute, if you can get past the fact that she's a real tomboy. The kind with more curiosity than sense."

"Do you have any idea where she might have gone?"

"Nah, not a clue," sighed Tobar. "I dropped her off about three weeks ago. But knowing her, she must have gotten herself into trouble."

The boatman put his harmonica in his jacket and got up from his chair.

"There we are."

He grabbed the tiller firmly and reduced the boat's speed slightly. Through the blanket of fog, Damian saw a jetty. A wide wooden pontoon, partly destroyed, welcomed them and led to the ruins of a carnival, dominated by a Ferris wheel. The fog lifted slightly, allowing Damian to make out a large cliff a little further away. At the top, a huge lighthouse stood next to a black and white Victorian-style mansion.

Not very welcoming," Emaline remarked, looking at the empty pier.

"That's the charm of Point Lookout," Tobar replied. "If the place was swarming with tourists, there wouldn't be any treasures left to discover."

The ferryman steered his boat to the large pontoon, while Damian, Sydney and Emaline watched the scenery. On the jetty, department stores, stalls and playrooms stretched over a hundred meters. Food stands, ice cream stands, gift shops, souvenir shops, everything you could find in a carnival was present, minus the merchants and customers.

Damian remembered that he had seen an advertisement in an old magazine in the Vault, promoting an amusement park entirely dedicated to Nuka-Cola.

The temperature was a little warmer than in the Capital Wasteland and Damian could feel moisture in the air. The first thing that struck Damian, was the state of the buildings and the place.

The carnival stands, the rides, the pier, as well as the mansion and the lighthouse that dominated the cliff, seemed to have suffered more from a lack of maintenance than from a worldwide nuclear war. A swampy area must not have been a major military objective in the Great War, and Damian doubted that the area had suffered a direct nuclear strike.

"Say," Damian asked. "What is the level of radioactivity in the area?"

Tobar looked briefly in his direction before concentrating on docking his ship.

"No higher than anywhere else. The water is radioactive, like everywhere else, but the danger is more bacteria and insects."

"What kind?" Emaline asked.

"Oh, mosquitoes, flies, leeches. Point Lookout is a swamp after all."

"And what kind of treasures are we talking about?"

Tobar maneuvered his boat before answering.

"There are artifacts and relics dating back to before the bombs. Technology mostly, but Point Lookout is full of stories and myths of all kinds, so go figure out what you might stumble upon."

The ferryman slowed down his boat again and prepared to dock. Damian and the two young women returned to their cabin to gather their belongings. The foghorn sounded again, followed by a bell.

"Welcome to Poink Lookout!"

Tobar had just finished mooring his boat and was watching the pier and the fairground. Damian was watching the fairgrounds. There was no one, not a merchant, vagabond, or traveler in sight. He began to think that finding Nadine would be more complicated than he had expected.

"Is there a place you recommend here?" Sydney asked.

"It all depends on what you're looking for. For shopping, you have a store on the docks. That's okay and there's a lot of choice. For lodging, there's an old motel in town behind the carnival. The beds are pretty soft, but every once in a while, you have to kick the tenants out."

The echo of a detonation reached them. They turned around and saw a column of smoke coming from the mansion on the cliff.

"What's over there?" Damian asked.

"That's the old Calvert Mansion. It's abandoned and God only knows what kind of loot you can find there."

Damian looked at the column of smoke and joined the two women who had gone down to the dock.

"I'll weigh anchor in a week, but if you want to leave before then, come back and see me!" Tobar said.

The ferryman disappeared inside his ship. Damian took one last look at the boat and joined the two relic hunters.

The carnival looked like a ghost town. There was not a single sound, except for the whistling of the wind, the sound of the waves, and the hammering of the boots on the wood.

Emaline looked a little nervous on the roofs of the stands. All of them had their metal curtains down. The floor was littered with trash, old food and drink containers floating in the wind.

They left the carnival and arrived on an asphalt road half eaten up by nature. On the other side of the road were ruins of wooden houses, and on their left was a large wooden construction still standing. A large sign with an arrow on top indicated an entrance. On the same sign, the name _"Motel Homestead"_ was still legible.

They entered the reception area.

"Charming," Sydney said.

The room was deserted. Only the remains of a skeleton were gathering dust beside the counter. Damian looked at the pictures on the walls, mostly of swampy landscapes or farms. Behind the counter, several nails in the wall, with keys hanging. Emaline went around the counter and grabbed two keys. She gave one to Damian and kept the other one for herself and Sydney. They went back outside and went to their rooms.

There was an oppressive atmosphere around them, and Damian had the very unpleasant feeling that he was being watched. On the other side of the motel, he could hear the insects and birds that lived in the swamp.

His room was surprisingly clean, except for the musty smell. Damian inspected the room from floor to ceiling and placed his bag under his bed. He glanced out the window towards the ruined houses and the swamp. Only the treetops were moving slightly because of the wind.

Damian left his room and found the two young women in front of their room next to his.

"So, what's the plan?" Emaline asked. "Where do we start?"

Damian always had his eyes fixed on the mansion and the smoke coming from it. He saw Sydney's hand pass into his field of vision. The young woman snapped her fingers and brought Damian back to reality.

"Sorry," Damian said. "I'm going to go check out that mansion. Maybe I can learn a few things about that girl, Nadine."

The two treasure hunters exchanged glances. Sydney looked up at the sky. The sun slowly lowered behind the treetops, casting an ochre light over the marshes.

"Okay. In the meantime, we'll make sure the motel's empty. It's best not to venture into that swamp at night.

Damian nodded. He set off for the mansion. He walked along the carnival and past the ruined houses. Strange noises came from the swamp on his left.

The column of smoke did not seem to weaken. Damian followed the thin strip of asphalt that was still visible and went up to the cliff. Below, there was a small creek, dotted with sandbanks where fishing boats had stranded. On the sand, Damian could see Mirelurks patrolling around their nests. On the other side of the cove, Damian could see the ruins of a large church on the edge of the cliff.

The mansion was even more imposing when seen up close. A huge three-story building, surrounded by a small stone wall, surmounted by a wrought-iron fence. In the old days, the wooden walls must have been sparkling white. Today, the facade was rotten, and the slate roof had holes in several places. Even though the building was impressive and in good condition compared to other buildings in the Capital Wasteland, there was no doubt that it would one day collapse.

Damian approached, looking at the large metal greenhouse in the garden. He noticed that the roof was dotted with antennas and that security cameras had been installed at various corners of the mansion and near the front door. Damian went beyond the large columns and the low wall that formed the porch and entered the mansion.

Immediately the door closed behind him and he felt the cold barrel of a gun against his cheek.

"Dirty little mud eater," hissed a hoarse voice.

The person holding the gun was out of Damian's sight. Damian was in a hallway, leading a huge room with two staircases. The white patterned wallpaper on the walls was peeling off everywhere. The furniture and shelves were all moth-eaten or rotten from the humidity and the wooden floor was cracking under his weight.

In front of him, two huge dogs were staring at him gruntingly, with their chops rolled up.

"Wait a minute," said the voice. "You aren't one of those crazy tribal people?"

Damian felt the barrel of the gun come off his cheek. He ventured to turn his head and saw a man, or rather a ghoul, wearing a gray suit and tie. The ghoul wore glasses and, strangely enough, had hair and a small moustache.

"Well, look, I don't care who you are, but you'd better give me a hand if you want to stay alive."

"What's going on?" Damian asked.

The ghoul did not answer and looked out of one of the windows. He snapped his fingers and the two dogs stopped growling at Damian. The ghoul walked to the middle room of the mansion, which had two large staircases. In the back, Damian could see a double door open behind a makeshift barricade of various pieces of furniture. Several small chandeliers hung from the ceiling, as well as automatic turrets.

The ghoul disappeared in the back room, his two dogs on his heels. Damian followed them inside. The room had been converted into a security post. The cables from the turrets were all connected to several terminals and on one wall, several television screens were placed on a shelf and showed images of different sections of the mansion and gardens. On the tables was a veritable arsenal, ranging from kitchen knives to rocket launchers. There were enough weapons to equip an entire section of the Brotherhood of Steel, or smash it to pieces.

"What the hell is this place? And who are you?" Damian asked.

In response, Damian heard footsteps above him and screams. The ghoul returned to the great hall and grabbed a double-barrel rifle from behind his makeshift barricade. From behind the various barricaded doors in the room, Damian could hear people shouting and banging.

The ghoul loaded the rifle and threw it to Damian.

"Here they come," said the ghoul.

* * *

**""""Fun fact"""", I never played Point Lookout until my last playthrough for this story. Now that I have played it, I have this strange feeling that Far Harbor looks a lot like Point Lookout.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed and until next time.**


	61. Chapter 61: The local flavor

**Would you look at that, 2 chapters in 1 day!**

**(Shitty) joke aside, I'm taking the opportunuty to answer Blaze1992 questions (and publish a new chapter at the same time).**

**So, regarding your questions, the main reason why I'm not answering some reviews is because the answers will be in the next chapters. So, don't worry, your question will be answered, in a near future. Now, regarding the question about being morbid and stuff (review for chapter 54) I'm good, yes. Fallout being a grim looking universe, I wanted to make the story as grim as possible. Looks like I made, at least for this chapter, a good job, but thanks for asking.**

**That being said, I have complete the story. It's fully written, I just have 6 chapters left to translate. I if keep this 1chapter/day rythm, then everything would be published here in about 15 days.**

**Now that the ""misunderstanding"" is solved, please enjoy this chapter, and if you have remarks or questions, ask them. Answer will be in the next chapter's notes or in a later chapter.**

**Thanks.**

* * *

A loud crash sounded on their left. One of the doors to the great hall had just given way and was wide open. A woman burst into the room. Small in stature, with long blond hair, her face was painted with strokes of paint on her cheeks and eyes and under her lips. She was dressed in torn beige shorts and leather sandals, and a simple strip of cloth covered her chest. Around her neck were several pendants attached to small black straps.

When she saw Damian and the ghoul, she raised the long knife she was holding in her hand and ran in their direction. The roar of the automatic turrets filled the room and a hail of lead fell on the woman and tore her torso and part of her face apart. Two other people, men, entered the room, dressed in an outfit similar to the woman.

The first was torn apart by the two ghoul dogs in terrifying howls. The second, equipped with a shotgun, had just enough time to raise his weapon when the ghoul shot him in the belly.

The ghoul whistled between his teeth and his two dogs left the man's body to come and sit next to him. The ghoul entered the room from which the three assailants had come out, a sort of living room. A creaking sound was heard as Damian entered the room. One of the walls had just been knocked down and a new group of these tribals entered, brandishing knives or guns.

Damian hid behind an armchair, while the ghoul fired at their opponents. The two dogs rushed towards the tribals and Damian could hear the unpleasant sound of the flesh being torn by a jaw. He felt a bullet whistle by his head and saw a tribal reloading his rusty rifle. He aimed his rifle and fired. The power of the weapon exceeded that of his hunting rifle, even his Chinese assault rifle. He felt as if a hammer had just hit him in the shoulder. The two 12-gauge shell escaped from the barrel and struck the tribal in a multitude of impacts, forming small dark stars on his body.

The ghoul moved towards the hole formed by the tribals. On the other side was a large bathroom, as wide as the main room of Damian's hut. There was a hole in the ceiling, probably caused by the lack of maintenance of the floor.

"It looks like they came from upstairs," said the ghoul, looking at the hole.

He turned back, ignoring Damian and his interrogative air. The young man decided his questions would have to wait. The ghoul had just opened a double door to a corridor. The only possible access was a large dining room, opposite the living room. The ghoul looked inside and pointed to another door.

"Go up that way and find out where those bastards are coming from and stop them. Come on!"

The ghoul gave Damian a square cardboard box. When Damian opened it, he saw that it was a box of ammunition for his double-barrel shotgun.

"What about you?" asked the young man as he reloaded his gun.

"I'll keep an eye on the cameras. Hurry up!"

The ghoul returned to the great hall at the stairs. Damian entered the dining room. In the center of the room was a long wooden table, which could accommodate twenty or so ghouls. A gigantic embroidered carpet hid a hole in the floor as best it could. The large windows had been blocked with wooden boards and panels. The long red curtains were half-fallen from their rods. Walls made of woodwork or covered with red wallpaper were in danger of collapsing.

Damian did not have time to admire the room in more detail than part of the ceiling collapsed. A man fell out of the hole and crashed on the table. At the same time, the door marked by the ghoul shattered and several tribals entered the dining room.

Damian dove on the carpet. A shot of lead hit the table and the chairs. The synthetic wool in the files flew in all directions. Damian raised his gun and fired. The lead shot hit several tribals.

The man who had fallen through the ceiling got up. He grabbed a knife and jumped on Damian. The blade stuck in the table, giving Damian time to stun him for good with the butt of his rifle.

He reloaded his weapon and headed for the door, cursing himself for always ending up in troublesome situations.

He heard a scream of fury and turned his head. He bent down immediately and avoided the head of an axe, wielded by a tribal. The man had a bloody arm, probably from Damian's shot. His axe crashed into the wall and got stuck. Damian stumbled over one of the wounded tribesmen lying on the ground and fell on his back. The tribal drew his weapon and brought it down on Damian who jumped back and spread his legs. The axe crashed into the ground a few inches away from him.

Damian rolled backwards. The tribal tried to free the axe, giving Damian time to draw his gun and kill him. Damian got up. Behind him, the hallway was blocked by a large shelf. A small staircase led to the next floor. Damian climbed up the steps. He could hear the planks creaking under his weight and listened for the creaking floorboards that would indicate the presence of ambushed tribal.

At the top of the stairs, the hallway had a large hole in the floor. As Damian leaned over, he saw that this was where the man had fallen from. On the other side, he saw several tribals entering a room to his left. A second later, he heard a wall collapse. Damian entered the room and found a tribal slumped on the floor surrounded by pieces of wood from the wall. A second one came in. Damian raised his rifle and put the two cartridges into the chest of his attacker. He ran towards the man still on the ground and kicked him in the face.

Damian entered a room on his right. On the bed, next to the owner's remains, he found a first aid kit and another box of 12-gauge shells. Damian slid the Stimpaks and bandages into his pockets and picked up the few rounds of ammunition he found. He did not like this gun. He thought it was too powerful and he disliked the fact that he had to reload the gun every time he fired. He had no trouble using a rifle, but every time he fired this one, he had to be careful not to aim it at his shoulder, or he would hurt himself. He decided to keep it anyway, to save his assault rifle ammunition.

Damian stepped over the bodies of the tribals and entered a children's room. Above the door leading to the corridor was a camera. He didn't know whether this security system had been installed by the former owners of the mansion, or whether the ghoul had arranged all this equipment to keep an eye on the interior and surroundings of the building.

The ghoul's voice echoed through the room.

_"Careful, two more coming. Corridor to the left."_

Damian reloaded his rifle and left the bedroom. From a corridor on the left, Damian heard footsteps. He entered the room on his right, a small living room with music stands and old rotten wooden instruments. He pointed his rifle at the door.

Two tribals walked past him. Damian fired at the second, who crashed into the wall, leaving a thick, dark blood trail on the tapestry. His companion turned around and rushed towards Damian, brandishing a shovel with rusty and damaged edges.

Damian closed the door in the tribal's face and stepped back while reloading his weapon. The tribal broke down the door and collapsed to the ground. Instead of getting up, he slid his shovel across the floor towards Damian's legs, and Damian jumped to dodge. The tribal got up, while uttering words that made no sense to Damian, and found his head stuck to the barrel of the rifle. Damian closed his eyes. The detonation echoed throughout the room and Damian felt the recoil in his arms as the tribal's head exploded into a mush of bone and flesh, splashing all around him.

Damian wiped the remains of the tribal from his face with his hand and reloaded his rifle. He left the room and entered the corridor where the trials had come from. He arrived in front of a large room.

_"Good, you must have a hole in the ceiling of this room. Blow it up,"_ commanded the ghoul's voice from an intercom.

Damian looked up, but all he saw was a dirty beige ceiling. He heard several voices coming from above him. There were two more doors in the room. One was locked and the second, with holes in it and barricaded by boards, led to a small desk. In the ceiling, Damian saw a hole in the ceiling, wide enough for several people to squeeze through. The ceiling was supported only by a large steel beam.

The voices became louder and Damian could hear people running above him. The voice of the ghoul sizzled again, more urgent and aggressive. Damian looked inside the office. The previous owners used it as a small laboratory. Damian noticed a gas can next to the beam. He raised his rifle, praying that the container was still full. He fired as several tribals dropped from the floor.

An impressive tremor shook the mansion. Damian fell backwards. Through the hole in the door, he could see the tribals being crushed by the debris. A cloud of dust escaped from the office and invaded the room. When the cloud dissipated, Damian found that the entire office was buried under the rubble. The ceiling above him cracked noisily. Damian got up quickly and left the room.

"Hey! Over here!"

Damian turned his head and saw the ghoul in the corridor, armed with a combat rifle.

"Good job with the breach," said the ghoul curtly. "But it looks like they're going to try a breakthrough from the East wing."

The ghoul disappeared through a door leading to the great hall. Damian followed him. They walked along the mezzanine railing and Damian could see more bodies on the ground floor. The door they were heading for broke down and three tribals came in front of them.

The ghoul briefly aimed his rifle and fired a salvo from his shotgun. The empty 12-gauge shells bounced off the tile floor in a small hollow plastic sound as the three tribals fell to the ground. The ghoul glanced through the broken door and turned towards Damian.

"Go find out which way they came in. I'll watch the entrance and keep an eye on the cameras."

Without giving Damian time to answer, the ghoul headed for the two staircases, finishing off one of the tribal by crushing his throat with his foot.

Damian rushed into the corridor. Suddenly, the floor beneath his feet cracked and gave way. Damian tried to make up for it at the walls or at a door. He spread his hands to grab the ledge, but, dragged by his weight in the fall, the floor broke and Damian fell.

"Crap!"

He had just enough time to swear that he felt his body hit the floor. On impact, the floor gave way again and Damian fell from a second floor. His vision blurred for a few seconds. He had fallen on his side, on a white tile floor covered with dust and pieces of wood from the ceiling. Damian got up, grunting and massaging his shoulder.

He lifted his head back to where he fell. It was impossible for him to climb back up that way. He turned his shoulder several times and picked up his rifle. Damian lit his flashlight and saw that he had fallen into the cellar of the mansion. The brick or stone walls, where several shelves piled up, were cluttered with old boxes of expired food or various objects.

He noticed a corridor and headed down it. After a few meters, he came across a large wine cellar. The shelves were full of bottles covered with dust. On the labels, which were still legible, Damian noticed that the owners of the manor owned a large collection of wines from different countries of the world. Each shelf was dedicated to a country and each level to a type of wine. After all these misadventures, Damian would have deserved a glass.

Damian heard a regular echo. He swept the cellar with his flashlight to look for the source. The noise, sounding like someone hitting something, seemed to come from behind a door. Damian approached. When he got close to the door, the noises stopped. Damian brought his ear closer. He heard muffled voices and the next thing he heard was a clicking sound.

Damian dove to the side. Part of the door exploded. Damian saw a woman's hand reaching for the lock. A head with brown hair and a face covered with tribal paintings went through the hole and looked for the door handle. Damian raised his double-barreled shotgun and fired. A slight squeak escaped from the head, while the back of the skull burst under the lead shot. Damian reloaded his rifle and stood in front of the door. He saw two tribal on the other side, at the bottom of what looked like a staircase. Damian fired. Sharp screams came to him. His lead shot had ripped off the arm of a young tribal girl and pulverized the head of another tribal man.

The girl sat against the wall and screamed as she watched her arm ripped off. Damian watched her for a few seconds. She was no longer a threat. The sight of her arm torn off would eventually make her fall unconscious, if the loss of blood and the shock of the wound did not kill her first.

Damian climbed the stairs and followed the corridor into which he came out. Most of the entrances were barricaded or blocked by a collapse or hole in the floor. Damian entered yet another small living room. The door in front of him opened on the fly, and he received in his face the head of the tribal who had just entered. Damian fell backwards and the man slumped all the way in front of him. Damian kicked him in the face and knocked him out. A second tribal came in. Damian aimed his rifle at him and fired. The man was stopped dead in his tracks and collapsed to the ground.

In the next room, a large office, he found himself facing one of the holes in the floor caused by his fall. Three more tribals burst in and rushed towards him. Damian killed the first with his rifle, which collapsed to the floor leaving a long trail of blood in its wake and eliminated the next two with his pistol.

He continued to move through the mansion, passing through corridors, rooms, offices and even a kitchen. After climbing a staircase, he entered a small games room, with a billiard table in the center, still surrounded by former participants.

A tribal woman entered the room and pointed her rifle at him. Damian dove behind the table. The woman fired and the lead shot shattered the top of the table. She reloaded her gun, standing motionless on the threshold of the door. Damian went under the table, aimed and fired, but missed. The two 12-gauge shells lodged in the ground, digging a small hole the size of a hand and projecting multiple splinters of wood into the woman's legs.

Unsettled, she fell to the ground in a hiccup of pain. Damian got up and went off the woman's line of fire, just in time to avoid another round. He reloaded his weapon and pointed it at the tribal. Hit by the discharge, the woman hiccupped and rolled to her side, her stomach torn apart.

The room in front of Damian was the new entry point for the tribal, a hole in the ceiling leading directly to the attic. Damian looked inside the room, a small living room, but saw nothing that would allow him to plug the hole. He heard footsteps coming from the corridor and turned around brandishing his rifle. The ghoul came into the corridor and looked at Damian and the rifle pointed at him.

"You're going to put that thing down before it hurts you," the ghoul said dryly.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a grenade.

"Here, use this."

The ghoul gave the grenade to Damian who pulled the pin and threw it into the room. He and the ghoul quickly moved away to the great hall. Seconds later, a blast shook the mansion and Damian heard the ceiling collapse and block the entry point of the tribals.

"All right, follow me. We'll reinforce the entrance. These savages are about to strike a blow, I can feel it."

The ghoul returned to the great hall and went down the stairs. Damian followed and asked the ghoul a lot of questions. The ghoul remained deaf, and Damian began to believe that he had simply stumbled upon another madman.

The front door opened on the fly and Sydney came in with her submachinegun in her hand. The ghoul's two dogs barked and growled. The ghoul pointed his rifle at the treasure hunter.

"No! Wait!" Damian shouted.

The ghoul turned his eyes to him, a nasty look on his face.

"She's with me," Damian said.

The ghoul stared at Sydney for a long time. He growled and lowered her rifle, before whistling between his teeth. Immediately, his two dogs calmed down and walked away from Sydney. The young woman looked at them suspiciously and approached Damian.

"What's all the fuss? We heard gunshots and explosions."

"I don't know any more than you do," Damian answered. "When I arrived, I found myself in the middle of this shooting between this ghoul, his two dogs and what appear to be a local tribe."

They watched as the ghoul was barricading the doors of the great hall with wooden boards and setting traps and mines.

"Where is your friend?" Damian asked the young brunette.

"Emaline stayed at the carnival. She got on the Ferris wheel and is watching the area, if we ever need help when we leave here, she should be able to help us."

Sydney turned to the ghoul who continued to set up barricades.

"Why don't you tell us what's going on?" the young woman said.

The ghoul looked at her briefly and returned to the installation of a tripwire near a door.

"A few weeks ago, these mud eaters started snooping around the mansion, and without warning, they started attacking."

"Why did they attack? Is this place yours?" Damian asked.

"Nah. It was already in ruins when I arrived, and I don't see what these savages would be interested in here."

He finished setting the trap and went up the stairs and placed several rifles and magazines behind a wall of sandbags, installed on the railing facing the entrance to the mansion.

"You'd better join me if you don't want to get shot."

Sydney and Damian exchanged glances. They went upstairs with the ghoul who had just finished loading an assault rifle.

"Help yourself to some ammunition, it might get a little hot in here."

He looked toward the front door and turned toward Sydney.

"Did you notice anything on your way in?"

"What kind of something?"

"Like a bunch of degenerates covered in paint that smelled like dirt and came in here looking like crazy dogs."

"No," Sydney answered curtly.

The ghoul grumbled and checked his shotgun. A heavy silence fell. The ghoul slowly aimed his rifle towards one of the upstairs doors. The door opened and a small cloud of smoke with a detonation rose.

Several tribals entered the great hall coughing, stunned by the explosion. The ghoul wiped them out. Three more tribals entered from the ground floor. Damian heard the dogs jumping at them and the automatic turrets starting up.

A door on their left broke down. The ghoul turned his rifle on the new group of attackers, who poured through the opening wielding knife, axes or hunting rifles.

"Who are these guys?" Sydney cried out.

"No idea, but they've been trying to kill me ever since I got here," Damian replied.

He saw two tribals coming up one of the stairs and shot in their direction. The first one collapsed, knocking down his companion who was following him. The tribal fell down the stairs and broke his neck on the last step.

The front door shattered and a new group of tribals entered, one of them with a minigun. The man raised his gun and the shrill whistle preceding the hail of 5mm bullets was heard as the barrel of the gun began to spin. Damian and Sydney took cover. The ghoul grabbed an assault rifle beside him and began firing blindly. Damian saw movement in his peripheral vision. He pivoted and pointed the tip of his gun at the native advancing behind the ghoul's back. Damian pulled the trigger. The lead shot hit the man in the chest and tipped him back over the railing.

The hissing and squealing of the minigun stopped abruptly. Looking into the entrance, Damian saw that the tribal had run out of ammunition. While he was trying to insert a new strip of ammunition, Sydney stood up and shot him in the stomach.

The assault ended slowly. The automatic turrets beeped to indicate that they were out of ammunition and the two dogs began to sniff the corpses. The ghoul came down the stairs and finished off the survivors, making sure that none of the tribal would leave the mansion alive.

Damian and Sydney got up and looked around.

"Damn, I've never seen so many people die in such a short period of time."

Damian wished he could have told her otherwise, but this scene reminded him of the battles he had fought with the Brotherhood and the Battle of Anchorage simulation, although in this case it was computer programs, not human beings.

"Haven't seen better death toll since the Great War," the ghoul said.

Sydney turned to him.

"Hey! You could be a little grateful! We saved your life!"

"What, you think you're heroes? You think you saved me just in time? You're not even close! I have over two centuries of experience dodging bullets and attacks like that. I didn't even have to resort to plan B."

Sydney was going to retaliate, but she shrugged in the belief that there was no point in arguing with that ghoul.

"Anyway, I would have damaged too many paintings, so I guess your presence wasn't any worse," the ghoul continued. "By the way, my name's Lockheart. Desmond Lockheart."

Damian and Sydney introduced themselves. Damian noted that the ghoul spoke with a strong accent, similar to Tenpenny and that his voice was not as hoarse as those of other ghouls.

"What kind of plan B are you talking about?" Damian ventured to ask.

He saw the ghoul smile.

"The classic kind. That goes boom and just leaves a smoking crater with lots of little pieces to pick up. But turning that whole cliff into ashes for a bunch of unfortunate ape creatures like them would be a real shame."

Sydney walked away and inspected the bodies of the tribals.

"Do you have any idea why these people attacked you?" Damian asked.

"They didn't have the courtesy to tell me," the ghoul said, heading towards the TV screens to survey the area. "They're just a bunch of deep-rooted morons who worship some kind of spirit. Nothing unlike the other tribes of the Wasteland. But why don't you tell me who you are and what you're doing here?"

"I'm looking for a young girl named Nadine. Redhead, about my age."

The ghoul observed Damian for a brief moment before answering.

"I've been in this hole for a while, but the last time I saw a chick named Nadine, I still had skin, but... There's this girl who came snooping around a few weeks ago. She took off before I... Before I get to know her."

"Any idea where she might have gone?"

"Not many places to live in this backwater. She must have gone to those mud eaters at the cathedral."

Damian thanked the ghoul with a nod and started walking away to Sydney when he heard the ghoul call out to him.

"Not so fast. I could use you both. I need someone who can get their hands dirty."

"Don't bother asking me," Sydney said as she headed for the door. "I'm not a gun for hire."

"What's the deal?" Damian asked.

"These mud lovers who worship I don't know what, have already attacked me several times. That means someone has a grudge against me. Man or God, I want to get to the bottom of this," said the ghoul. "With this attack, they're going to be a bit lonely in their cathedral, and since they accept everyone who knocks on their door, you, are going to mingle with them and find out what's going on. There's no need to be brutal with them... Yet."

"I'll keep that in mind," Damian replied after a brief reflection.

The ghoul moved away and began to collect the weapons and ammunition of the natives scattered on the ground while Damian and Sydney left the mansion.

In the distance, Damian could see the ruins of the cathedral. It would be dark soon and they hurried back to the motel. They were not sure if it would be safe, but it was better than sleeping outside.

"You gonna accept this ghoul's proposal?" Sydney asked, looking at the trees on their right.

"I have to go to that cathedral to look for that girl and I would also like to know why a group of tribal would go after a ghoul alone in an abandoned mansion. So maybe, I don't know."

"You should be careful with these tribals. You'd have to be out of your mind to attack like they did. And their cult doesn't seem like the pacifist or very civilized kind."

"What do you mean, not _'civilized'_?"

Sydney raised her hand to her head and drew a line from her forehead, up to her skull and ending at her left ear.

"You didn't notice? These tribals all had large scars, more or less recent in this area. I've never met any tribes or people living as _"savages"_ in the Wasteland, but to me, this looks like a ritual to get into their sect."

Damian felt a shiver go through his skull and neck.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, trying not to think about the risk of ending up lobotomized.

They were arriving in front of the motel. The last rays of sunlight were disappearing behind the treetops.

"I came here with Emaline to look for pre-war treasures and relics," said Sydney. "Stuff that that old lunatic Abraham Washington can give us a lot of caps for. If you want my opinion on this girl, she's dead and her corpse is rotting somewhere in this swamp."

The young brunette stopped at her bedroom door and turned towards Damian.

"You know, I admire you."

"Uh? Why?"

"You are always ready to help people in need, but… You can't save everyone. One day, you'll find yourself in a situation where you won't be able to save everyone and if you keep on that way, you're going to get killed."

Damian didn't answer. He knew full well that the young relic hunter was right, he had already experienced it in Pitt. Yet, he was incapable of not helping others.

Sydney pushed open the door to her room and a silhouette sprang from it, wearing a clown mask with a pompom hat on top. The silhouette rushed on top of her and Damian without them being able to react.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Until next time.**


	62. Chapter 62: Private property

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Today, we continue to follow Damian's journey in Point Lookout.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

Sydney and Damian screamed. Damian threw his fist into the masked figure. A hiccup of pain came out from under the mask. The figure took off his mask and lifted his head.

"What the fuck you think you are doing, Emaline!" Sydney yelled.

The young redhead held in her hand a rubber mask depicting a white clown face with a broad smile and big eyes, topped with a pompom hat. With her other hand she was massaging her nose, from which a few drops of blood were being shed.

Damian put his hand over his face with and took a deep breath.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Sydney cried.

"It's all right, I just wanted to make a joke," the redhead replied. "You should have seen your faces."

"Don't do that to me again," sighed the young brunette. "And what's this horror?"

She pointed to the mask in her friend's hand. Emaline showed them the mask and pointed to one of the motel rooms.

"I searched the motel to make sure it was safe for the night, and I found this thing in one of the rooms. Anyway, what happened at the mansion."

The redhead threw the mask inside the room and turned towards Damian.

"A local tribe was attacking the mansion, occupied by a ghoul. When you searched the motel, did you find anything about this girl Nadine?"

"That story again?" Emaline sighed. "It's becoming an obsession. We didn't come here to save this girl, but to find treasures."

"Did you find something or not?" Damian repeated.

Emaline stared at him. She turned to Sydney who shook her head. The redheaded girl sighed.

"No, I haven't found anything. The motel's been deserted for quite a while. This place is super creepy, Sydney."

"Yeah, and dressing up as a serial killer isn't going to make it any better."

"I'm sorry."

Damian walked away to his room and locked the door behind him. He grabbed his bag from under the bed. He made sure that everything was there and grabbed some food.

He sat down by the window and raised the blind slightly. Even in the darkness he could make out the shapes of the mansion and the lighthouse on the cliff, and the ruined houses across the road. His mind was occupied with this story. That ghoul with his accent was hiding something from him. Damian had the feeling that Desmond hated this place, yet he seemed to have been here for a long time and did not seem about to leave.

Damian finished his meagre meal and put a chair against the door. He laid on the bed with the double-barrel shotgun within reach and began to fall asleep.

Damian had been up for a good hour. Outside, the sun was slowly breaking through the trees and cliffs of the seaside. Damian had hardly slept all night. He had heard, or thought he heard, screams and laughter coming from the swamp. After taking one last look at his equipment, he grabbed his bag and left the motel.

Sydney and Emaline were up too, and judging by their faces, they did not have a restful night either.

The redhead checked her armor, while Sydney finished adjusting the strap on her submachinegun.

"Good morning," Damian said.

The two young women greeted him. Damian looked in the direction of the cathedral. The building stood atop its cliff. Like the mansion, it did not seem to have suffered too much from the weather, but Damian expected the inside to be a pile of ruins.

"You're going after that girl," Sydney asked.

"Yes. But first, I'd like to check out that store Tobar told us about yesterday. What about you guys?"

"We'll also go the shop first, then head into the swamp. We found an old flyer in the bedroom. We'll do a little digging and be back here before nightfall."

They left the motel and headed to the carnival to look for the store.

"By the way, sorry about your nose," Damian apologized.

"That's all right. At least you still have your reflexes," said Emaline.

The store was an old shooting gallery. The wooden targets were still there, behind the counter, fixed on their rails. In front of the store was an old carousel of bumper cars.

A small group of people were standing in front of the counter, dealing with a woman, brown hair, quite small, dressed in a light red sweater and a leather jacket, accompanied by a slightly rusty Protectron, partially repainted in red.

Damian and the two young women approached and were able to get a better look at the group trading with the woman.

They were five, all men. All wore pre-war clothing and were armed with double-barrel shotguns or lever rifles. The closer he got, the more Damian could see that their faces and bodies were deformed.

The most normal of them was wearing only a pair of torn pants that were a little too big and a pair of boots. Small in stature, he was holding a double-barreled shotgun in his hands. He was quite thin, and his belly protruded from his body, like a bump. His face was quite peculiar. His ears were protruding, his mouth was half toothless, leaning to the side in a rather unnatural way. Part of his skull was shaved, separating his hair into two distinct tufts.

He turned his head towards Damian and the two women and stared at them for a long time. The man had a silly look on his face, but Damian saw that his eyes projected flashes of cruelty.

The second man was dressed in faded blue overalls and an orange shirt. He had thin hair on the top of his head and the right side of his face was deformed. His ear was atrophied, and his eye was covered by excess skin.

Two of the other men were an amalgam of the first and second, but the one who stood out the most was the last one.

Dominating everyone by his size, he was dressed in patched jeans and big leather boots. He wore an open green shirt with rolled up sleeves over what was left of a tank-top, barely managing to hide his imposing body. His belly protruded cheerfully from his clothes and had several rather coarse scars. The man had a clean-shaven head, shaped as a cone and blisters on his head, neck and arms. The most terrifying was his left arm. It was disproportionately large and had blisters all over it, ending in hooked fingers.

Just like the first one, these men all had a silly look on their faces, but as Damian looked at them, he saw that they were all sparkling with cruelty and madness.

The men left the store, staring at Damian and the two women for a long time. An unhealthy aura emanated from them and Damian hoped inside that not everyone in Point Lookout was like them.

The woman who ran the store was normal, compared to the locals they had just met. She was Hispanic and spoke with a strong accent that Damian did not know.

"And hello," the woman greeted them. "I'm Mrs. Panada, and you're here at Mrs. Panada's store."

The woman spoke with grand gestures and a rather mystical tone. Damian wondered if it was about a role, or if this woman was as eccentric as Moira.

"Fate has told me you're coming," the saleswoman continued. "Mrs. Panada knows all your needs and has what it takes to satisfy them."

Damian heard Emaline choke a laugh behind him. He ignored the salesgirl's mystic speech and began to look at the items on sale. In the midst of the various items and cartridges of all calibers, Damian again saw these mysterious Punga fruits. Apparently, it must have been the main source of food for the people of Point Lookout, although thinking back to the group of men, Damian had serious doubts about it.

Sydney and Emaline bought some food and water, and Damian bought two boxes of cartridges for his new shotgun and a leather cartridge belt to store them. Although he didn't particularly like the gun, it had been useful to him in the attack on the mansion, and the saleswoman did not seem to have any 5.56 ammunition.

Damian searched for some caps to pay. He was a little amazed that everywhere he went, the Nuka-Cola bottlecaps were used as currency, instead of any other object, as if someone had travelled the whole nuked United States to explain people that from now, bottlecaps were the official currency of the post-Great War world.

Damian dropped the caps and as he removed his hand, he felt his wrist being grabbed. He turned around and saw that the saleswoman had grabbed his hand with a serious look on her face. Strangely, instead of pulling away and walking away, Damian stood still. The saleswoman turned Damian's hand and began to look at his palm. After a few seconds, she put her index finger inside the young man's hand and began to follow the lines in it.

"Uh...," Damian stammered. What the…"

"I see a great sadness in you. This line indicates that your life has been marked by the loss of many loved ones. I see... That this sadness will increase as you live your life. I see on this line that you are also carrying a heavy burden, and that your heart is blackened with guilt, which forces you to do certain things, and I see that you want to find your home again. I see that... Death is scattering your path and waiting for you there at the end."

The saleswoman let go of Damian's hand and looked at him with a sorrow. Damian stared at the inside of his hand in disbelief.

"Don't believe this fortune-teller bullshit," Emaline said. "Otherwise you'll spend your life locked in a room, like those wannabe nobles at Tenpenny Tower."

Damian slowly looked up at the salesgirl.

"You... Can you really read the future?" he asked.

"Ms. Panada can see some things, but... It would be arrogant of me to say that I can see the future clearly."

Damian opened and closed his hand several times. He could still feel the slight pressure of the woman's index finger on his palm.

"Death at the end of the road?" Damian said with a defeatist smile on his face. "But I'm already supposed to be dead."

He walked away with the 12-gauge shells in the cartridge belt and tied it across his chest.

"Aren't you thinking about what that witch told you?" Emaline asked. "You're not the first or the last person she's going to tell this nonsense to."

Damian was not entirely convinced. The saleswoman had to tell the same kind of story to travelers, explorers or adventurers who came to Point Lookout, and it was easy to guess that someone in the Wasteland had lost a loved one or had already seen death up close. Yet this story of _"finding home"_ was quite confusing. His dearest wish was to end the Enclave and be able to return to Vault 101, offering Amata an outside world without all the dangers he had faced, and he wondered how the saleswoman could have been right in her predictions, as he still had a form of guilt in his heart, after what happened in Pitt, the fact that he could not save Denise in Grayditch, guilt about some of the people he had to kill and, in a way, guilt to have awaken from coma, while Sarah was still in.

"No," Damian lied. "I'm thinking more about those guys we ran into."

He felt Sydney and Emaline stiffen up. Apparently, they, too, had been disturbed by the encounter.

"Yeah, never thought I would see something uglier than a Super Mutant."

"As long as we don't run into them again, I'm fine with it."

They left the carnival and went back to the motel.

"Well, since there is no chance to talk you out of this saving the girl quest thing, we'll just wish you luck."

Damian nodded silently.

"Be careful," he said.

"Watch your back out there."

He watched the two relic hunters move away on the road past the motel to the marsh and the coast. Damian turned back towards the cathedral. Between the trees, he saw a road that came down from the cliff and meandered through the marsh. After checking his equipment one last time, he started walking.

Mrs. Panada's words echoed in his head, as did the various hypotheses he made in an attempt to understand what had led the tribals to attack the mansion. Was it a sacred place for them? Did they regard Desmond as a mystical enemy?

Damian stopped thinking about the attack and focused on his path. He arrived at a small covered wooden bridge. On his right, a small river meandered and ended into the sea. On the left, the swamp, dark, threatening. Damian lingered for a few seconds on this new landscape.

A small plain full of water with a few sand banks. Smoke and gas escaped from small openings in the ground and mixed with the fog that obstructed his vision. Puddles of brown or yellowish liquids were scattered everywhere and every now and then a large bubble would rise to the surface and burst noisily, releasing a thick, smelly vapor.

Behind it, large trees with twisted trunks, whose branches fell to the ground, obstructing the view and darkening the swamp. A cacophony of squealing and buzzing insects emanated from the swamp.

As Damian approached the bridge, he noticed a metal sign. On top of it was the shape of a church, followed by the message:

_"Ark & Dove Cathedral:_

_Follow this road."_

_"Ark & Dove"_. A name that sounded familiar to Damian. He was sure he heard it in the Vault, probably in one of Mr. Brotch's classes.

The bridge was blocked on each side by a bunch of tires and cinder blocks. An old mattress was lying on the ground next to several empty ammunition boxes. An old metal shelf and a garden table were set up in a corner and stored gun part, scrap metal and some food.

On the other side of the bridge, the asphalt road had given way to a dirt road, strewn with bushes and those twisted trees. In the middle of the trees, Damian saw two figures. He squinted his eyes and stretched out his neck, as if this simple gesture would allow him to better discern the two silhouettes.

The seemingly male figures stood still and seemed to be watching him. Behind them, Damian could see a hut, built before the war. The two men were holding shotguns in their hands. One was dressed in brown shorts and a grey sleeveless t-shirt, and the other in a green shirt and black jeans.

Damian felt a presence on his back. He turned around and saw two other men near the bridge and recognized them both. They were two of the men he had seen at Mrs. Panada's store, the little man with the cruel look and the giant with the deformed arm.

"Lost, boy?"

The little man spoke in a high-pitched, unpleasant voice and had a nasty smile on his face. The giant laughed fatly and stroked the blade of the axe he was holding with his mutant hand.

Damian took a brief look behind his back. The two figures had come out of the trees and walked quietly towards the bridge. He noticed that they too had deformities on their faces and bodies.

"Are ya Lost?"

Damian turned towards the little man. The man sniffed loudly and dipped his hand into his trousers to scratch his crotch. The giant had come closer and was standing right behind him with a silly look on his face. Damian could see that his eyes, like the little one's, were sparkling with cruelty and murderous envy.

"'Dis is our swamp," the little one hissed. Ma cousins and I don't like outsiders or tourist like ya."

Damian saw him put his finger on the trigger of his rifle. Damian pointed his shotgun and fired. The lead went right through the little one and hit the giant, causing them both to fall to the ground. Damian dropped his rifle and crouched behind the wall of tires and cinder blocks, just as a bullet whistled over his head. He slid the strap of his assault rifle and grabbed it firmly.

He straightened up and aimed towards the two men in his back. The man in shorts had sprinted to the bridge. Damian stopped him with a bullet through the heart. The second man, seeing his companion fall to the ground, took cover behind a tree.

Damian aimed and fired. The bullet went into the man's foot and he screamed and jumped around, holding his wounded foot. Damian heard a growl behind him. He looked over his shoulder and saw the giant with the deformed arm struggle to get up. The initial shock of seeing a man get up, without ballistic protection, hit by a 12-gauge shotgun gone, Damian aimed his rifle and shot him in the head. He looked at the corpse for a moment and fired a second shot. The body moved imperceptibly under the impact of the bullet, but the giant was dead.

A small squeak caught Damian's attention. He looked over the wall of tires and cinder blocks and saw his last assailant jumping away. Damian aimed up his weapon, but the man had already disappeared into the swamp.

Damian sighed and after checking that the way was clear, got up. He quickly searched the corpses but did not pull anything out. The locals seemed to have a certain aversion to strangers, a detail that Tobar had obviously omitted to mention to him.

Damian continued his way, keeping an eye on the swamp and the hut, which seemed deserted. The hut was halfway across a small pond, and Damian noted several totems and scarecrows made of small children's dolls or human bones. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought that he might end up on one of those wooden poles or decorate the hut of one of those sick people who lived in the swamp.

Damian continued to follow the road until he arrived on a rising slope. He had arrived at the foot of the cliff where the cathedral was located, the territory of the tribe that had attacked the mansion.

Below the road was the swamp, with its strange and disturbing noises. When he had left Vault 101, Damian had, as his eyes fell upon the devastated landscape and the ruins of D.C., felt a sense of anxiety. The anxiety of finding himself in an unknown world and having to search for his father had turned into a visceral fear when he saw that this world was populated by some people whose sole purpose was to kill him. This fear was, as he walked through the metro tunnels, ruins and the Wastelands, gradually reduced to a small ball in his belly. That ball had never left him again and he could feel it, at every moment, there in his belly.

Point Lookout was different from the Wasteland. Damian did not know why, but the ball in his belly grew bigger as he stood near the swamp.

Damian shook his head to drive off his thoughts and began to climb. He passed several stopped vehicles in front of a police checkpoint. Apparently, shortly before the bombs silenced the world for decades, a truck had overturned, and its trailer had dumped its load of light bulbs and doll's heads on the road and the truck had ended up in a tree down the road.

As he climbed up, Damian thought about what the little man had told him at the bridge. The Capital Wasteland were not a tourist area and few people could say that they had walked more than a kilometer around their home. People had gathered and formed cities, occupied old farms and did not need to go far to get their food. These people were suspicious of strangers, and usually preferred to shoot first and ask questions later.

The people of Point Lookout were no exception. Growing these strange Punga fruits, hunting or fishing, and bartering with that Mrs. Panada or Tobar. The locals did not seem to like foreigners very much, but Damian felt that this aversion dated back to long before the Great War. He had learned from Mr. Brotch's classes or from his personal readings that some people in certain parts of the United States rejected the authority of the government and looked down on the installation of its agencies or the mere presence of a state representative. This hatred of foreigners had probably been passed on from generation to generation in the Point Lookout community, even if it had lost all meaning after the Great War.

Damian breathed out loudly and put his hands on his hips. The climb to the cathedral had been harder than he had expected. He turned and looked out over the swamp. From where he was, he could only see the trees and could barely make out the shapes of the motel or the ruined houses around him. He could see the big Ferries-wheel and behind, the sea. Damian turned towards the church.

The building was in poor condition, the cause of two centuries of neglect in a humid environment. A large red brick wall surrounded the building. The wall was surmounted by a broken wrought-iron fence and from time to time, the iron rods still in place, looked like crucifixes and gave a little more symbolism to the place.

A wide iron gate blocked the access and Damian approached it to try to take a look inside. Behind the gates, small shoots of Punga fruit were growing in a disorderly fashion. Damian could not see any human activity.

"Uh... Hello? Anybody in there?" Damian called.

No answer came to him. Damian stepped back and raised his head to look at the wall and the gate. He looked around him and his eyes landed on a cemetery surrounded by a gate and small shrubs.

Damian turned his attention to the church and the gate and was startled. Behind the gate, the figure of a man was watching him. Damian had not heard him coming. He blinked several times, fearing that he was hallucinating, but the man was real and present in front of him.

The man was quite old. Thin white hair was curled over his skull to hide a bald spot. He had small piercing blue eyes and his obtuse face was decorated with traces of paint around his eyes and mouth. Like the tribals who had attacked the mansion, he had a scar on his head, on the left from the top of his forehead to his ear.

"Who stands on the threshold of transcendence?" he said in a calm and friendly voice.

Desmond had told him that the tribals accepted anyone who showed up at their door, but Damian suspected he would have to be pretty convincing if he wanted to gain the right to enter.

"I'm… I'm looking to join your tribe," he said.

He decided to play the spontaneity card and improvise based on the responses of his interlocutor.

"Are you looking for wisdom? Do you wish to awaken your spirit, like us?"

Damian thought about the scars on the natives' skulls, and an unpleasant feeling went through his head.

"Yes," Damian lied.

"What a beautiful day!" exclaimed the man, revealing a broad smile of yellowed teeth.

He came a little closer to the gate and looked at Damian for a long time.

"Where are you from?" he finally asked.

"From the Capital Waste… From a place far to the North."

"Only the strong travel far," the man said. "But strength is nothing without an open mind. If you really want to join us, you must show yourself worthy."

"You'll have to tell me more, before I accept," said Damian, who dreaded the answer.

The man smiled again.

"Caution is a great mark of wisdom," he said. "I think you are worthy to try the Ritual of the Mother Seed."

"And, what exactly do I have to do?"

The man put a skinny arm through the gate and pointed to the swamp. Following the direction of his gaze, Damian noticed a large rock formation that stood out from the mist and trees.

"Go to the Sacred bog. There you will find the Mother of all Punga fruits. Collect her seeds and kneel before her wisdom. Only then will you be ready to enter these sacred halls."

Damian watched the swamp. In places, there was no vegetation and he could see the pale reflection of the sky in the water. Even though he kept the same course from the church, he was certain to get lost once in the swamp, despite the map and compass of his Pip-Boy.

"How do I get to the Sacred bog?" he asked.

"In the Great swamp, you will find a path lined with light, follow it where the sun disappears, and you will find the Sacred bog."

Before Damian can ask for more, the man disappeared. Damian feared that he had dreamed at first, but when he looked down, he saw bare footprints on the wet ground, a sign that the man had been there.

Damian turned toward the swamp.

_"'A path lined with light'. 'Where the sun disappears'. I just hope that whoever leads this tribe expresses himself in more than metaphor,"_ Damian thought.

He spotted the large rock formation and headed straight down to the swamp. Damian almost fell several times on the slippery slope and finally arrived in the marsh. He walked straight ahead, sometimes wading in opaque water up to his thighs.

"Why am I doing this again?" he murmured. "Oh yeah, I've got it in my head to help all the people in need, even if it means getting shot, irradiated or wading through this fucking swamp."

The water was getting deeper and deeper and he branched off to the right to avoid having to swim. The Geiger counter on his Pip-Boy did not make any sound, but Damian did not want to stay in the muddy water. He left the small body of water and found himself on harder ground. He looked around him. Only trees, bushes, brown vegetation, and the occasional Punga fruit plant that grew on soil alternating between banks of land and pools of water. Everything looked the same. The branches of the trees obscured the sky and darkened the place.

Damian looked in all directions. He consulted his Pip-Boy's compass. He knew he had to head West. However, he did not know when, or even if, he would come across the famous path that would lead him to that '_Sacred bog'_.

He sighed and set off again. After several minutes of walking, Damian felt his discomfort growing. The sounds of the marsh came from everywhere at once and the thick vegetation prevented him from distinguishing the danger. He squeezed the handle of his rifle tighter and took another look around him.

He felt as if the trees were constantly getting in his way and he was going in circles. Yet his Pip-Boy's compass was working properly, and the satellite map clearly indicated his location.

Damian stopped against a tree trunk to catch his breath. The humidity was getting unpleasant and he was beginning to attract the attention of insects. Fortunately, the insects were not as big as Grayditch's fire-spitting ants, but they had grown big enough to become a nuisance.

"At least it's not raining."

No sooner had he uttered these words than he raised his head to the sky, expecting a heavy downpour. Nothing happened. Damian chuckled and went on his way. Behind yet another flooded area, he saw a double row of fence. A small two-meters wide path was visible between the two barriers and each was topped with barbed wire.

On the furthest fence Damian could see a sheet metal panel, eaten away by rust and mold. On the panel, he guessed a shape, that of a great lightning bolt, striking a man in the chest. The design was the same as the one on Vault 101's generators and indicated a deadly risk of electrocution. The drawing was accompanied by a message:

_"Electrified fence_

_Danger of death"_

Just below, a series of symbols, similar to those inscribed on the neon of the Brass Lantern at Megaton.

Damian approached. The fence closest to him also had a sign.

_"Military terrain_

_Access prohibited_

_Intruders will be shot without summons."_

Damian followed the grid with his eyes. It stretched for several meters on his right before disappearing into the swamp.

On the left, the fence extended for about ten meters before stopping and giving way to a guard post. He approached the two guardhouses that framed a broken fence. A US Army truck was stopped at the entrance and some human bones were scattered around. Near one of the sentry boxes, another sign was posted:

_"Turtledove Detention Camp_

_Access prohibited"_

Damian looked at the small dirt road that ran from the entrance post and meandered across the fence. Between the trees he could see another rectangular wire fence. At each corner was a large wooden watchtower with a spotlight and sandbags. Inside the enclosure there were several wooden barracks.

Although he had never been here before, Damian knew what kind of place it was. Turtledove was a military prison. However, instead of locking up deserters or soldiers guilty of crimes, the US Army kept Chinese nationals or American citizens of Asian descent in Turtledove. He had heard about these prisons, modestly referred to as _'labor camps'_, in his history classes. During the Sino-American War that led to the Great War in 2077, the American Government had locked up in these camps, men, women and sometimes entire families suspected of being Chinese spies. Such a scenario had already occurred during the Second World War, during which the United States had placed in camps citizens of Japanese origin, suspected of being infiltrators or spies. Camps that reminded of others, built at the same time, and whose only purpose, Damian remembered being horrified by this revelation, was the methodical killing of a defined slice of humanity.

Damian went his way. He suspected that this concentration camp had served as a torture center for the US Army and that the prisoners probably ended up buried in the swamp, in a large mass grave, or cremated.

He continued walking, skirting around the large bodies of water, and listening for the slightest sound that would come off the concerto of insect squeaks.

He stumbled upon a small dirt road. The path was bordered, every five meters, by two torches facing each other.

_"Follow the path lined with light to where the sun disappears,"_ Damian said to himself.

He checked his compass to make sure he was in the right direction and headed deeper in the swamp.

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**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Until next time.**


	63. Chapter 63: Harvester of Sorrow

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Today, Damian ventures deeper in the swamp and the Sacred bog.**

**Please enjoy.**

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The torch-lined path advanced through the swamp like a long sleeping snake. The thick vegetation had given way to small bodies of water lined with bushes or piles of rubbish. This change of scenery had given Damian the effect of a great breath of fresh air. He felt more comfortable now that he could see more than two meters around him, and he felt less suffocated. Nevertheless, it meant that he was visible and therefore more vulnerable in the event of an ambush.

Damian did not know how long he had been walking but walking through the swamp as he had done since leaving the cathedral had tired him out. Resting in the middle of such an open area would be suicide, so he decided to continue following the path to the Sacred bog, praying that the place would not be too far away.

An unpleasant smell, which stung his nose, was floating in the swamp. It seemed to emanate from these small geysers that, from time to time, made a big yellow bubble appear, which burst after a few seconds and released this nauseating smell.

The path ended in front of a cave at the edge of a stream, whose entrance was marked by two torches.

Damian looked around him, nervous. On a tree, two mosquitoes as big as a Brahmin were sitting and had to wait for a prey to come within their reach. He stared at the cave entrance.

"Fuck me…"

Damian entered the cave. He leaned slightly forward so as not to hit his head and after a few meters he exited on the other side. He had reached a small clearing, surrounded by rocks several meters high and dotted with small shrubs and reeds. Damian looked up. The sky was partially visible between the branches and leaves of the trees growing above him. He heard a creaking sound and looked at his feet. He had just stepped on human bones. He squatted down and inspected the bones and noticed small scratches and bite marks.

He had seen these marks somewhere before. He searched his mind quickly but could not remember where.

Damian left the corpse behind and kept moving forward. About ten meters further on, he came to a swamp. It was most likely the same swamp that made up Point Lookout, but without being able to explain it, Damian felt that he had just entered a different place.

A vast expanse of grey water, dotted with tall, slender trees. From time to time, his eye would catch on a large rock in the middle of the marsh. Damian noted that here the presence of Punga fruits was stronger than elsewhere.

The whole swamp was surrounded by a huge rocky wall, making any access other than the cave impossible.

Damian entered the water, which reached up to his waist. His Geiger counter was crackling. Nothing very alarming, but he preferred not to linger in the water. He had no idea where to go and decided to walk along one of the rock walls until he found the giant Punga fruit. Damian did not have a clue what to do once he found the fruit, but he put it off for later.

On the banks of the swamp, at the foot of the rock walls, Damian could see small grey pebbles, gathered in small piles. He kept walking forward and heard a small creak and the sound of something falling into the water. He turned his head and saw that the surface of the water near the small pebbles was shaken with small ripples. One of the pebbles had shifted and its surface was damaged. Damian felt something graze his leg. He turned around and watched the surface of the water.

That was when he noticed that what he had thought were stones were Mirelurks eggs. He swore silently as he remembered where he had seen the marks on the skeleton before. He had seen them in the cave leading to the Meresti metro station, when he was looking for Lucy's brother. The tunnels were infested with Mirelurks and this swamp must have been one of their nesting places.

He quickly headed towards a mud bank. He heard a whisper behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a small oval shape moving towards him below the surface of the water.

Damian stopped, turned around and aimed his rifle. He placed his target in the sight and fired. A spray of water gushed out from where the lead had hit. Immediately, a small pool of blood and the remains of a gray shell began to float on the surface of the water. Damian reloaded his gun and looked at the other eggs. They did not move.

He turned around and resumed his advance. There were two paths before him. On the left, the stream, covered with reeds, and on the right, a small slope of earth overhanging the water. Damian opted for dry land. In the middle, on the slope, a rocky mound, with a small doll on it. The object seemed to have been there for ages. The little rag doll was sitting down, and its head was hanging against its body.

Damian looked at it several times and continued his way. A shiver ran down his back. A little further on, he came across several objects scattered on the ground and a few meters in front of him, the corpse of a man in a leather suit, clutching a wooden box containing Punga fruit.

The man, at least Damian supposed it was a man, had been dead for several days and his body was slowly decomposing. The peculiar smell of rotting flesh stung Damian's nostrils and he put his hand on his face to soften it. The corpse had claw marks and a large gash on the torso, probably the work of a Mirelurk.

The path led him into a large rocky cavity, which had been converted into a camp. The remains of a campfire were found there, as well as several crates filled with Punga fruit.

The path leading out of the cavity was lined with small totem poles. Rag dolls had been impaled on wooden poles or hung from trees with ropes.

"Charming," said Damian as he tried to put aside his unease.

The path went back into the swamp, but this time a thin sand bank would keep him from getting wet. A little further away, half submerged in water, the bloated corpse of a man. Damian quickly observed him and went on his way.

He felt something soft under his foot and as he looked down, Damian felt himself being lifted off the ground and back into the water. He rose to the surface taking a deep breath and shaking his head. When he opened his eyes, Damian saw a large humanoid figure in front of him. The thing slowly straightened up in a whistling sound. Mud dripped from its body and head, revealing a greenish skin covered with scales.

The creature turned its broad, rounded head towards Damian, revealing an almost human face. Two bright almond-shaped yellow eyes gazed at it nastily, two small slits in the nostrils moved quickly and a mouth full of small sharp teeth slowly opened.

Damian observed the thing in front of him. If he had been asked to describe the unlikely cross between a human being and a fish, he might have imagined the abomination that stood in front of him.

The creature emitted a slight growl and Damian saw several gills moving on its stocky neck. The animal moved towards him and Damian looked around in panic, looking for his gun.

He straightened his head and saw that the thing was already on him. He drew his gun, but the thing was quicker. A huge hand with four clawed fingers, at the end of a muscular arm where a thin flipper folded and unfolded, grabbed Damian by the neck and lifted him off the ground.

Damian pulled out his knife and stuck the blade into the creature's arm, which growled and let go. Damian fell back heavily into the water. His hand touched something cold and metallic. Through the surface of the water, Damian saw the shape of his double-barreled shotgun. He grabbed the rifle and stood up.

The creature grunted in pain as it looked down at his arm, where the blade of the trench knife was solidly embedded. With an almost human-like gesture, it thrust its long, hooked fingers into the rings of the knuckle-point fist of the knife handle and pulled.

Damian pointed his rifle at the creature and pulled the trigger. He heard the distinctive click of a gun, but not the deafening detonation that accompanied the ejection of the cartridges. He immediately looked down at his gun and heard a sound like a match being struck.

He separated the barrel from the body of the weapon and saw that the two cartridges were illuminated with small sparks.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Damian swore.

He heard a growl and lifted his head towards the creature that was coming towards him, the knife still in its hand.

Damian put the barrel of the gun back into its firing position. He grabbed the barrel and, with a horizontal movement, smashed the butt down to the creature's temple.

The creature wobbled to the side. Damian drew his pistol, praying that the gun would be in working order. The roar of the gun echoed through the swamp. Gaining confidence when he heard the detonation, Damian pulled the trigger until the thing collapsed. Damian reloaded his handgun and grabbed his assault rifle. He pointed the barrel at the creature's head and pulled the trigger. To his great relief, the detonation resonated in the swamp, and the familiar feeling in his shoulder of the gun's recoil overwhelmed him.

His Type 93 and N99 had not suffered too much from the water, but a drastic cleaning of the mechanism was quickly going to be necessary. His double-barreled shotgun was covered with mud and his 12-gauge cartridges were soaking wet and Damian did not know if his 5.56 and 10mm magazines would work. He abandoned the weapon and prepared his Chinese rifle.

"What the fuck are you? The king of fish?"

Damian approached the fish man and wondered what could have caused such a mutation. The idea of a pre-war scientific project to make men able to breathe underwater like fish passed through his mind. He retrieved his knife and walked away, this time watching his step.

The swamp was buzzing with the squeals of insects. Damian continued walking, following the two rock walls that made a right turn, almost 180 degrees. He climbed up a small slope and found his feet in the water again.

Three Mirelurks were swimming slowly a little further on. The biggest of them, its shell covered by mud snapped its claws and approached Damian menacingly. Damian aimed his assault rifle and fired a burst towards the mutant crab, which collapsed in a hissing sound. The other two smaller crabs charged at Damian and he took them out.

Damian arrived in front of a path, lined with reeds and lit by two torches. The path went deep between the rock walls. Assuming that he was on the right path, Damian followed the small path and reached a dead end.

In front of him, framed by torches and Punga fruit plants, was a large tree two or three meters high. Three gigantic Punga fruits were planted there and the one in the middle was split in two, revealing long green branches sprinkled with small buds and purple seeds.

"'_Collect her seeds and kneel before her wisdom'_," said Damian. "Well, when it's time to go, it's time to go."

He stared at the seeds and took a deep breath. He reached for his hand and grabbed one. When he touched the seed, a thick stream of spores escaped from it and sprayed it in his face. All the seeds released their spores at the same time in a small greenish cloud. Damian turned his head away, but he had already received spores in the face. He coughed and spat. His breathing became difficult. He was suffocating. He leaned forward, writhing in pain from his burning chest. His throat hurt from coughing. He was running out of air. He took a few steps back and had the reflex to take a deep breath. His vision blurred and he fell backwards, unconscious.

Damian opened his eyes a few seconds later. He was lying at the foot of the Punga tree, on a ground covered with dead leaves. Painfully, he got up and palpated his body. He looked in the direction of the tree's seeds and a slight coughing fit seized him. He cleared his throat and walked out of the swamp.

He did not feel anything different about him, despite the fact that he had breathed in all those spores. He stretched out his stiff neck. He was going to head back to the cathedral, and told the doorman what had happened, hoping it would be enough to let him in.

Damian left the cavity where the giant Punga fruit was and arrived in the swamp.

Everything was the same as it had been a few minutes ago, when he had passed by. The opaque water, the rocks, the trees, the small sandbanks, the sizzling of the insects. Everything was the same, with one exception.

A few meters in front of him, lying on a sandbank at the foot of a rock, a Vault-Tec bobblehead. Damian had already seen one in his father's clinic. The doll represented the company's mascot, Vault-Boy, with his blue and yellow vault dweller suit, his big head and his blond hair.

"What... What the hell is it doing here?" Damian whispered.

He approached slowly, his eyes riveted on the doll. He was convinced that it was not there the first time he had passed by.

Damian arrived in front of the bobblehead. It was bigger than the one he had seen in his father's office, and was maybe 30 centimeters high. The doll represented Vault-Boy, fists on his hips, smiling, with a pair of glasses on his nose and a student's hat on his head. On the base, where the logo and the name Vault-Tec should have been, he could read the name _"Schmault-Tec"_.

"What the hell is that?"

Damian brought a hesitant hand to the doll. No sooner had he touched it, that Vault-Boy's little head moved to the side and his lips began to move, like an automaton toy.

"Tsk, tsk, walked right into another trap. Exactly how stupid are you?"

Damian didn't have time to think about what the doll had just said that it had vanished. He looked around, dazed.

A little further along in the swamp, a second of those dolls was resting on a rock. As he approached, he heard a musical tune. Someone was playing the violin next to him, no, above, no, behind. The music seemed to come from everywhere at once. Damian looked at the trees around him and noticed that their trunks were shaped like a violin.

The doll represented Vault-Boy showing his arm muscles. When he touched it, Damian heard the same voice coming out of the doll.

"This is one situation you're not going to be able to fight your way out of."

The doll disappeared as well. Damian shook his head in disbelief. He could not understand what was happening to him. He climbed up the little hill he had crossed in the alley, the sound of violins still playing around him.

Another Vault-Tec doll, representing Vault-Boy running, came in the way. Damian shoved it and heard the little voice.

"Keep it up, you're almost there... Wherever 'there' may be... Probably nowhere."

The doll disappeared without him noticing. Damian was running. He had only one goal, to get out of the swamp. His vision turned red and he felt a pain in his head. The pain made him stumble. As he got up, he saw that the violin music had stopped.

As he ran, he ran past several trees. He saw something growing on the branches. Bottles of Nuka-Cola filled with a fluorescent blue liquid. The bottles were forming from the bottlecap. Then the neck appeared, then the rest of the bottle. When it was fully formed, the bottle would come off the tree and fall to the ground. Instead of breaking, it would bounce, like a rubber ball.

One of the bottles bounced off Damian's feet and exploded. Damian jumped backwards, but he felt no heat, or injury, or anything else for that matter, except that pain in his head that was getting worse by the second.

The bottle had exploded in a small mushroom cloud, like a Fat-Man warhead. Instead of the detonation, Damian heard the babbling of an infant.

The bottles exploded all around him and Damian continued running, following the long sandbank he had already crossed. Another Vault-Boy doll was waiting for him on a rock. Damian ignored it and heard the ranting of a pack of feral ghouls around him. He stood still and pointed his rifle in all directions but realized that he was unarmed. Damian turned around. The ghostly figures of several feral ghouls jumped at him.

He stepped back and raised his hands for protection. The ghouls evaporated just before they reached him. As he backed away, Damian had knocked over the Vault-Boy doll.

"Isn't it funny how everyone you get close to ends up leaving or dead?" the doll asked.

Damian shook his head. He walked past the fish man's corpse and into the cavity where the old camp was. On the path he found the totems of rag dolls. The dolls straightened their heads when they saw him coming. They smiled at him and raised their little hands towards the camp, as if to show him the way.

Damian was running. The camp was gone. The soft ground he had walked on just a few minutes before was gone. Instead, the sky and the treetops. Everything was upside down. The campfire was now above his head, as well as all the objects left there.

In the middle of the cavity, a Vault-Boy doll was floating, mimicking an explorer looking into the distance. Damian stopped but too late. He was going to fall. He put one foot forward and felt a hard surface underneath. Yet all he could see was the vastness of the sky beneath his feet.

"This doesn't look right, not right at all," the doll said, looking around.

The pain drummed in his head. He walked forward, into the cavity, without believing what he saw. On the other side, everything had returned to its place. The sky above, the ground below. The kind of red filter he had in front of his eyes gradually faded away.

"What... Where... How...?"

Ahead of him, Damian could see the Washington Monument, standing in the swamp. He could not understand it anymore. How could the Washington Monument be here in Point Lookout when he was miles from D.C.?

A slight, steady beep came to his ears. He walked forward with his eyes fixed on the obelisk in front of him. He stopped. A few meters away from him, he saw his father turning his back. Damian rushed towards him, calling him for help. His father did not react. He was standing in front of a surgery table on which a woman was lying. Around the table, several balloons of different colors and a small red and yellow pointy party hat, the same one he wore on his tenth birthday in Vault 101 were scattered.

"Who… Who is this?"

Damian approached the surgery table. He did not know the woman he was looking at. Brunette with long hair, very beautiful. Damian looked at the woman. She was wearing a simple t-shirt and her pelvis was covered by a white towel. A small note of anxiety shone in her eyes, yet, she had a beautiful smile on her face and when she stared at James, it was with tenderness. In her hands, Damian noticed that she was holding two little teddy bears. A name had been sewn on each teddy bear. _"Damian"_ and _"Rebecca"_.

Damian knew this bear. It was his when he was a child. His father had told him that his mother had found it and sewed his name on it. Damian had cried for days when Butch and his gang had stolen his bear and tore it apart.

If this woman had this bear with her, then it meant that Damian was facing his mother, Catherine.

"Mom," he said in a whisper. "Is... Is that you?"

He smiled and looked at her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He reached his hand and grazed his mother's arm. He had never seen a picture of her, and his father had always had trouble talking about her. Although he had never seen her, he felt that this beautiful woman in front of him was his mother. She was exactly like he had imagined her.

A little Vault-Boy doll suddenly appeared between his mother's legs and turned its head towards Damian.

"Blech. If my kid looked like that, I'd leave too," the doll laughed.

Damian suddenly noticed that the beautiful young woman had turned into a decayed corpse. He jumped up and stepped back. At the same time, the regular beeping he heard had turned into a continuous sound. The sound that indicated, in hospitals, that the patient's vitals had stopped.

Damian shook his head. The operating table had disappeared, as had his mother Instead, was his father, bent over a small cradle.

"It's your fault," James whispered.

As Damian approached, he realized his father was talking to a little baby. He was talking to Damian as a little baby.

"It's your fault that Catherine died," his father repeated, in a grim tone. "If you hadn't been born, she would still be here. You killed the love of my life."

Damian felt an enormous weight fall on his stomach. He could not believe his own father had just said that. He shook his head, refusing to believe that his father, who had sacrificed everything for him, could think that.

"Yes," a woman's voice went behind his back.

He turned around and saw the beautiful young woman, his mother, standing in front of him.

"If you had not been born, I would still be alive," she said bitterly.

She held her belly and looked at Damian crying.

"I died because of you. You killed me."

As she spoke, her mother was turning into a skeleton. Damian stepped back and started running. The pain in his head became unbearable and his parents' words echoed around him.

He dashed into the swamp, wading waist-deep in opaque water. The water changed color. It turned dark red and as Damian advanced, it became thicker, like blood.

Dead bodies were coming to the surface. Damian looked around in horror. He was walking through a real mass grave. Officer Kendall's body, with his throat wound, rose to the surface right in front of him, and stared at him with an empty, lifeless stare.

Damian stammered away. The bodies of the Raiders he had killed in the Super-Duper Mart, soldiers from the Enclave, appeared one after the other.

Damian looked around him, short of breath. More and more bodies were appearing. He saw the bodies of Eulogy Jones, Moira, Simms, Hood, Elder Lyons, Sarah, strangers he had met in Rivet City or Pitt. The half-torn corpse of Denise appeared next to him, just like the ones from the young girl he met in Tenpenny Tower and the slave he had to kill in Pitt.

Damian felt the pain drumming harder and harder in his head. He watched the bodies coming up to the surface one by one. A few meters away from him, he saw Amata's body. Damian ran as fast as he could, pushing away the bodies around him. He grabbed his friend in his arms.

"It's your fault," said Amata's body, turning her head towards him. "You abandoned me in the Vault, all alone, at the mercy of my father and his henchmen."

"A... A... Amata...," Damian said with difficulty.

Amata's corpse evaporated into the air, in a multitude of small luminous fragments of fluorescent blue. Damian could not speak anymore. Shocked, he waved his arms to try to retrieve the small fragments that were disappearing one after the other.

A laugh resounded in front of him. He looked up and saw himself standing in the swamp. His double was standing two meters away from him and had a broad smile on his face. On his shoulder was a Vault-Boy doll with a green top hat and a four-leaf clover between the teeth.

"Look at us," said the second Damian. "Mom died giving birth to us, Dad basically committed suicide, every person we get close to or meet, end up leaving us or dying because of us. We have no friends, we were chased out of our home, and now we live in a post-atomic world, like rats, among rats."

"Like rats," repeated the Vault-Boy doll in an annoying high-pitched voice.

"Yeah, that sucks..."

Another voice had just spoken. Behind the second Damian, the silhouette of Burke, the man who had proposed to Damian to blow up Megaton, appeared. He gave an accomplice look and smile at the second Damian.

Damian tried to get up, despite the stabbing pain in his skull.

"No, no," Burke stopped him. "Don't get up yet, my friend. You'll hurt yourself."

He put his hand into his striped suit and pulled out a small detonator. Damian then noticed that Burke and his double were standing in front of an atomic bomb.

The pain in his head suddenly became unbearable. He felt as if his skull would split in two. He screamed out and held his head in his hands.

Damian could see that his double had blood pouring out of his head.

"You know, we've been putting the blame on the others for a long time. The Enclave, the Raiders, Paradise Falls' slavers. Truth is, we are no better than them, man. All we've been doing since we were born is spreading death and harvesting sorrow. Poetic, isn't it?"

Damian's head was about to explode. He screamed again, rolling around on the floor in pain. Burke pushed the detonator button. A great white flash encompassed the swamp. Damian's vision blurred and he lost consciousness.

Damian woke up screaming. The echo of his scream was lost in the swamp. He looked around, panting and soaking wet with sweat. He was at the entrance to the Sacred bog, sitting on a bed of straw his weapons and his bag beside him.

He closed his eyes with force and began to gather his memories. He remembered entering the Sacred bog, fighting this humanoid creature that looked like a fish, and breathing in the spores of the giant Punga fruit and losing consciousness for a few seconds. When he wanted to leave the Sacred bog, he was confronted with strange things. Talking Vault-Boy dolls, visions, of his father, his mother, of D.C., of people he had met, killed or see die and, a vision of himself.

The last thing he remembered was the excruciating pain inside his skull and Burke blowing up the swamp with a nuclear warhead.

After gathering his wits, Damian stood up. He heard footsteps beside him. Two men, like the ones who had attacked him at the bridge, were running towards him, armed with shovels.

"Outsider! Kill him!"

Damian looked around him for a weapon but was too late. He prepared to avoid the first attack and to strike back when he heard a buzzing sound. His two assailants did not seem to have heard it, and continued to charge.

The first arrived on Damian and raised his shovel to strike. At the same time, a gigantic mosquito swept past and landed violently on the man. The man screamed and his scream stopped abruptly when the insect pushed its trunk into his chest. An unpleasant sucking sound escaped from the insect, and Damian could see that a red liquid was rising from its trunk to its abdomen, which was growing visibly.

The man uttered a moan, while his skin became increasingly pale and blistered. His companion rushed at the insect, waving his shovel. The insect removed its trunk and the man collapsed motionless on the ground. The mosquito circled around the second man and attacked, only to receive a blow from the shovel that severed its wing. The large insect fell to the ground and tried to fly away again, before being crushed by the shovel.

The man removed his tool and looked at his dead companion on the marsh floor. He turned to Damian who had taken advantage of the mosquito attack to grab his knife. He punched the man in the face and the spiked knuckle guard broke his jaw.

The man fell on the stomach, headfirst into the brown water surrounding them. He tried to get up, but Damian jumped on top of him. He grabbed his hair and pushed the man's head underwater. The man struggled violently, waving his arms and feet. Damian, still weak and groggy from his hallucinations, threw a brass knuckle punch into his ribs.

A large column of air bubbles rose to the surface, while Damian still held his attacker's head underwater and punched him in the ribs with his trench knife.

The man stopped struggling. The air bubbles stopped rising. Damian stayed for another two full minutes, forcing on the head of his assailant, keeping it submerged.

Damian looked down at the man. He caught his breath and finally let go of the man's hair. He looked at the corpse, slowly coming back to his sense.

The surface of the water became calm and stabilized, reflecting the swamp around it, allowing Damian to see his reflection.

His face was smeared with dried blood. He raised a trembling hand to his head and with his fingertips touched the left side of his skull. Much of his hair had been shaved clean. He was startled when he felt something rough on his skull. A line from his forehead to his ear and up to the top of his skull.

The image of the natives came back to him. The large scar they had on their head was the same shape as his.

Damian stood up slowly, his gaze riveted on his reflection and the large scar on his head. He opened his mouth several times, but no sound came out. A feeling of emptiness came over him, as if something was missing, without him knowing exactly what. Damian felt his whole body start to shake. He did not know what had happened to him in the Sacred bog, but one thing was certain, someone had attacked him and left him with this scar as a souvenir.

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**The hallucination part from the quest in game was nice, and I really enjoyed writing this chapter and adding a few things to this part.**

**I thought that having Damian have a chat with himself and his conscience was a cool idea.**

**Hope you enjoyed and until next time.**


	64. Chapter 64: Whispers into my brain

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Today, we follow Damian as he enters the Cathedral and discovers part of the mysteries of Point Lookout.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

It must have been around noon when Damian arrived in front of the cathedral where the natives lived. On the way back, he had had the impression that the swamp around him was alive and trying to absorb him. A violent migraine had been chasing him since he woke up. He had injected a Stimpak and Med-X, but the pain had not subsided.

He arrived in front of the church grounds and the man who had sent him to the Sacred bog unlocked the doors. The metal gates opened, and Damian rushed in. The doorman came towards him and spread his arms.

"I welcome you to our..."

"What the fuck did you do to me?" Damian cried out.

He grabbed the man by the collar of his tunic. Strangely, the man did not seem afraid or annoyed. He was content to observe Damian in silence.

"You cracked my skull open, you fuckin' psycho!"

From the corner of his eye he could see other tribals, gathering around him and the doorman, a worried expression on their face. They all had this scar on their heads, in varying degrees of visibility.

"Mother Punga has given you the benefit of her wisdom," said the doorman calmly. "Your mind has been opened."

"It wasn't a fucking tree that lobotomized me, damn it! It was you!"

The pain in Damian's head was getting louder and louder. He let go of the man and held his head as he staggered and clenched his teeth.

"Your pain will soon subside," said the man, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "This pain, is the expression of your consciousness, which is rushing towards its maximum potential."

He turned to the other tribals and waved to them that all was well. The tribals looked at Damian one last time and walked away in silence, as if nothing had happened.

"You are welcome in our cathedral, Enlightened Brother."

The man walked away to close the door, and then he went to talk with the other tribals. The pain subsided a little, allowing Damian to straighten up. A small bell rang. The tinkling resonated in Damian's head and he grimaced as he massaged his temples. The ringing lasted only a few seconds.

Looking around, Damian saw that the natives were all heading inside the church. Damian ignored them and concentrated on his surroundings.

The church, made of red brick and marble, had suffered from the passage of time and its facades were all covered with vines and vegetation.

"You must be hungry," said the voice of the doorman next to Damian. "You should go and eat something to eat."

With a gesture, he pointed to the double door to enter the building. Damian did not care about eating. All he wanted was to find out who had given him that scar. Find Nadine and the reason for the attack on the mansion would come later. He rushed in through the two wide open doors.

The church was surprisingly clean. Damian had expected to find a ruin there, but to his surprise, the floor and walls, as well as the stone and marble pillars were in good condition. Above his head, the ceiling, pierced in places, let the sunlight through. On the walls, most of the stained-glass windows were broken and the openings had been blocked. Despite this, vegetation was creeping into the interior of the old place of worship.

The benches had been pushed to the sides, and against the walls Damian could see hydroponic machines, containing Punga fruit plants. Several natives were busy harvesting the fruits and bringing them deeper into the second part of the church. There, long rows of tables and part of the pews had been set up as a refectory. On the left, Damian could see other hydroponic plantations and rainwater tanks.

On the right and in the back of the church, around the altar, there were some straw mattresses, installed on the floor, to serve as beds for the natives.

Some of the tribe members sat down in front of the tables. Others had to be brought in and seated. Some of the natives were kneeling in front of the Punga plants and were shaken with spasms, mumbling words that made no sense for Damian.

As he got closer, he noticed that some of the natives looked… Strange. They were not saying anything, just staring at the blank. Damian first thought they were praying when he noticed that the natives had their mouths open and saliva was slowly flowing out.

Damian was shivering. He noticed a flash of orange lightning in his field of vision. He twisted his neck to see over the tribals. A girl in her early twenties had just split through the crowd of natives with a plate in her hand. She sat down at one of the tables, away from the others.

Damian, who sensed that all eyes were on him as he passed by the tribals, approached her and sat down across the table.

The girl stared at him for a few seconds, probably astonished to see a young man armed to the teeth in pre-war combat armor settling down in front of her. During this time, Damian observed her in more detail. She must have been smaller than him, and was dressed in one of those tribal tunics. She had hazelnut eyes, and her flaming orange hair was combed back. She, too, had this scar on her head, although it was much less visible than that of the other natives or Damian. Her face was quite thin, looked familiar to Damian, and at times he felt as if he could see the woman who had asked him to find his daughter, Nadine.

She blinked several times and Damian noticed that her eyes sparkled with intelligence.

"Oh, a new member of the tribe," exclaimed the young woman.

Damian was about to answer, but the young woman continued.

"Let me guess. Your hole in your head has softened your brain and now the only difference between you," she pointed to the Punga fruit on her plate, "and this fruit is that you can still walk."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

The young woman remained silent, her eyes wide open. She looked at Damian as if he was from another planet. She glanced furtively at the other natives and brought her face closer to Damian.

"You are lucky," she said in a serious tone. "Usually, those who pass the ritual end up lobotomized and can't even say one word."

She stared at Damian again, as if she wanted to probe his mind.

"Do you remember your name?"

Damian opened his mouth and immediately closed it again. He closed his eyes.

"Da... Damian... Franklin. Yes, my name is Damian Franklin."

"Well, how many fingers am I holding up?" the redheaded girl asked, pointing to her hands and spreading her fingers.

"Ten."

"And there?"

The young woman was flipping him off.

"Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"No, but it amuses me."

She put her hands on the table and regain her serious tone.

"How's your memory? Do you remember how old you are, where you were born, what your life was like before you came to Point Lookout?"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember."

"And what happened in the swamp?"

Damian hesitated a little before answering.

"I... I think I did... I saw things and heard voices, and I woke up outside."

"Outside?" asked the young woman. "Usually after the ritual, someone takes you back here. And you didn't feel anything strange when you woke up?"

"Apart from the fact that someone had aired the inside of my skull? No, I was attacked right after I woke up by these sick, deformed people and a giant mosquito and..."

Damian frowned. He remembered the attack very well, but now that he was thinking about it, he felt like he had not been himself. He clearly saw himself killing the man, but it was as if he was seeing the scene from the outside, as if he were a spectator.

It also seemed to him that when he had returned to the cathedral, he had had the feeling that an invisible force was driving him to do so. He had to go there, not to investigate as Desmond had asked him, or to find Nadine, but because he felt obliged to.

"Anyway," said the redhead. "You're lucky, you know."

"How?"

"When I came to my sense, parts of my memory were missing. Instead, it was the big black hole, and it still is. I mean, the two of us must be the luckiest people in this whole pretty little place. See that guy over there?"

She pointed a direction with her chin. Damian turned his head and saw a tribal sitting in front of a plate of Punga fruit. His arms were dangling and his eyes were empty, and a thin stream of slime was dripping from the corners of his lips.

"He arrived four days ago," the young redhead explained. "When he showed up with his skull open, he could barely stand. Someone may have tampered with our brains and left us with a nice souvenir, but at least we're still ourselves."

"Why?" Damian asked.

The young woman sighed.

"It's part of the ritual. When you lose consciousness, after breathing in the spores, a guy takes you back and opens your skull and _"frees your mind"._ He actually takes out a part of your brain, and given the state some people get in afterwards, that must be a pretty important part. My guess is the one that makes you be who you are or something like that."

She gently ran her fingers over her scar.

"At least yours doesn't make you look like a Halloween monster," says Damian.

The young woman settled into the back of the bench, folded her arms across her chest and looked at Damian with a slight smirk on her face.

"That's because I've got my little secret. You should be happy, it makes you look tough and it looks pretty hot on you," said the young redhead. "Isn't that what you mercenaries are looking for?"

"I'm not a mercenary."

"Yeah, well, whatever you are in life, it's nice to talk to someone who doesn't drool over himself after two words. I'm Nadine, by the way, and welcome to the tribe, for what it matters. So, you really don't want to keep that scar?"

"No, I don't."

"Well, I'm no expert, but it should heal normally, and everything should come back to normal, I mean, except for the missing piece of brain. Oh, and don't worry about the headaches, it'll pass on its own. But if you can't stand the scar, I may be able to do something about it."

"If you don't mind."

Nadine got up and signaled Damian to follow her. She led him away a little and pointed to a bench. Damian sat there, while the young woman grabbed a small box the size of her hand.

"What is it?" Damian asked a little nervous.

"Something the natives use to treat themselves. I've discovered that it speeds up the healing process and is good for migraines. Well, we'll still see the mark, but when your hair grows back, it shouldn't show anymore.

She approached Damian and briefly inspected his head.

"Try not to move too much, I don't have much left."

She began to smear the contours of the scar. Damian felt the cold paste on her skull and the delicate movement of the young redhead's hands.

"Do you have any idea who cracked our skull open? I don't see the tribals doing it."

"No, I have no idea."

After several minutes, Nadine stepped back and looked at Damian before nodding contentedly.

"There you go," she said. "Admire the work."

She gave a small broken mirror to Damian who looked carefully at his reflection. The scar had almost become invisible and only a thin, flesh-colored line remained.

"Thank you," Damian said.

Nadine smiled. The tribals' meal was over, and everyone had gotten up to go back to work on the hydroponic plantations or the lobotomized tribesmen.

"Can you tell me more about this tribe?" Damian asked after a moment of silence.

"I haven't been with them long, a week at the most. They seem to worship the Pungas. They're not bad, since most of them are unable to do anything without someone holding their hands."

"Then why did they attack the mansion near the lighthouse?"

Nadine remained silent. Her eyes met Damian's.

"Hey, I have nothing to do with it!" she exclaimed.

"I didn't say that."

"Sorry, I got a bit carried away."

The young woman apologized again and calmed down.

"The mansion was Jackson's idea. He's the one who organized this suicide mission by asking for volunteers. The only time I went near the mansion was when I arrived in Point Lookout and I was shot by that ghoul and almost got eaten by his two mutts."

"This Jackson, is he the leader of the tribe?"

"Yeah, well, leader's a big word."

"Why do you say that?"

They went back to sitting at one of the tables.

"Jackson's not a leader. He's the one who carries the word, but he's not capable of leading anything."

"'_The word'_?"

"Yeah, you know, THE word. The one of their deity."

"Do you know where he is?"

"Why do you want to see him?"

"I was at the mansion looking for you when I got in the middle of the attack. I can't understand why a peaceful-looking tribe would attack an abandoned mansion inhabited by a ghoul."

A small crowd movement attracted their attention, when one of the natives went into a trance in front of one of the Punga plants.

"Why were you looking for me?" asked Nadine suspiciously.

Damian rummaged through his armor and found the letter the woman at the D.C. pier had given him. The letter had suffered from being in the water in the swamp. He gave it to the young woman, hoping the contents would still be legible.

"Your mother gave this to me."

The young woman looked at the letter. She opened it slowly and began to read it. A sad look came over her face.

"You know, it's not that I don't want to go home. What I mean is that I love my mother, even though she sometimes makes me want to tear my eyes out. I came here to find my fortune and become somebody!"

Nadine squeezed her fingers around the letter and straightened her head.

"You want to find Jackson, right?" she asked to change the subject. "He must be in his cave meditating."

"Do you know where it is?"

"He keeps saying that we aren't enlighten enough or some mystical bullshit to access it, but the other day I followed him outside."

"Could you show me?"

Damian and Nadine left the cathedral. The tribals were too busy praying, feeding their amorphous members or tending the hydroponic crops to notice them. Nadine took Damian to the edge of the cliff near the cemetery.

"Look, there."

Nadine had approached the edge and crouched down against a rock so as not to be destabilized by the blowing wind. Damian approached her and looked. Below, the waves were crashing against the rocks in an impressive din. Nadine was pointing at a wreck of a merchant ship that had stranded against the cliff.

"The ship ran aground against the entrance of a cave. That's where Jackson enters to do whatever he wants."

Damian looked around the wreck and spotted several Mirelurk nests. He examined the cliff and spotted a small path not too steep to go down.

"I'll go take a look. I want you to stay at the cathedral and…"

"Who do you think you are?" Nadine instantly replied. "My boyfriend?"

"What? No! I…"

"Relax, I know you've come a long way to find me, but trust me…"

Nadine raised her skirt a little and showed Damian the switchblade she had strapped on her inner thigh.

"I can handle myself."

Damian quickly turned his head away and heard the young redhead chuckle. He checked his weapons and approached the path.

"By the way," Nadine asked. "What did my mother promise you?"

"Nothing," Damian answered. "I agreed because I wanted to help her."

Nadine stared at him before bursting out laughing.

"Are you sure the hole in your head didn't blow your brains out?"

"That's the truth."

He slung his rifle over his shoulder and started to descend, leaning on the rock.

"Hey!" the redheaded girl called out to him again.

Damian turned around and looked at her.

"Good luck!"

Damian nodded to the young woman and began his descent. The wind was whistling in his ears and almost knocked him down. Her headache had subsided and seemed to disappear completely.

He arrived a few meters from the boat. He had managed to find a place sheltered from the waves, but he was still getting water every time one crashed against the rocks. Damian walked along the cliff, made slippery by the water and algae. He clung to the rock and scratched his hands to keep from slipping. If he fell into the sea, the current would carry him out to sea, before suddenly bringing him back and crushing him against the cliff.

Damian finally arrived at the boat wreck and found a trap door that allowed him to get inside. He pulled with all his might and managed to lift the hatch and swing it open. He turned on his flashlight and glanced inside. The wreck was partly flooded and Damian suspected that the water would be freezing.

Before entering the wreck, he glanced out to sea. Several buoys and sea beacons were slowly floating, anchored there for two centuries. Behind the horizon, Europe. Had it suffered a different fate than America? Had there been atomic shelters like those at Vault-Tec, where the population could have taken refuge, without knowing that they would be used as guinea pigs by perverse scientists?

All Damian knew was that the different countries of Europe, once united, had been torn apart when the Earth's last resources had dwindled even further. He wondered what the capitals of these countries might look like. Did they look like D.C., or Pitt, or was there nothing left but a great desert vitrified by warheads?

His gaze fell upon the ocean. This body of water had always terrified him. In the days of the old world, immense creatures had been discovered, as big as ships. Today, after two centuries of exposure to radiation, who could say for sure that the Mirelurks were the only mutant abominations that lived in the seas.

Damian entered the wreckage. The icy water reached up to his waist and he let out a sigh as he felt the bite of the cold. He crossed the wreck of the ship and arrived, as Nadine had told him, in a large cave.

Damian spotted a small usable path, lit by torches and running along the wall. He followed the marked path and heard a noise on his left. Several Mirelurks were resting or taking care of their eggs below. Damian crouched down and advanced silently.

Large rock pillars, made smooth by erosion and humidity, supported the vault of the cave. The walls were sometimes strewn with algae or large shells. Damian advanced into the cave, taking care not to attract the attention of the mutated crabs, and praying that the place would not be flooded during the tide.

After several minutes, following the path marked out by the torches, he arrived in a large room, dimly lit by torches and luminescent mushrooms. Damian looked up at the ceiling. He realized that he was right under the cathedral cemetery. Large roots snaked across the rock and hung in the void like a multitude of hooked fingers. Stuck in the roots were coffins. Some had opened and the human remains they contained had poured out onto the cave floor.

Damian was hearing voices, two of them, to be exact. One loud and authoritative, and the second, less audible. Both voices were coming from a rocky mound at the bottom of the cave, yet Damian felt that the authoritative voice was also resonating in his head.

He climbed up a small path and came to the back of a medium-sized man, kneeling in front of a table. The authoritative voice did not seem to come from him, yet Damian saw no one else in the cave apart from him and that man.

The man, with long black hair falling down on his shoulders, was wearing a tribal's tunic and bowed his head and spoke almost in a low voice compared to his interlocutor. There was a buzzing in Damian's ears and his migraine started again. He grimaced and approached in silence.

"Don't worry, Master, your wishes will be fulfilled. We will attack the mansion tomorrow and destroy the impurities inside."

_"Yes, yes, go and destroy the mansion and its 'impurities'."_

"All right, Master. I and my people, will be the instrument of your will."

The man rose slowly. He turned around and saw Damian, who watched him silently with his rifle in his hand. The man looked at him anxiously and noticed the scar on his skull. His face softened.

"Good morning," he said with a kind smile. "What are you doing here? Are you trying to reach the higher planes?"

"Are you Jackson?"

"Yes, that's the name I bear. I am indeed the one in charge of the daily affairs of the tribe, but I take my orders from a higher master. It is he who imparts the wisdom of this world to me, and I merely pass it on to my people."

"Wait a second, are you the leader of the tribe or not?"

"Ah, if only I had the wisdom to claim that title!" exclaimed Jackson. "It is the superior spirit of the Enlightened One who commands the tribe. Although his spirit no longer needs a carnal covering, his conscience guides our people, but he needs me to interpret his will."

"Is he the one I heard earlier?"

_"Young man, come closer, please."_

Damian was startled and looked around. He saw no one but Jackson. The voice was the same voice Jackson was talking to, cold and bossy. It had resonated in Damian's head.

"Do you wish to speak to my Master?" Jackson asked like he had not heard the voice. "He manifests himself on this ledge."

Jackson pointed with a wave of his hand to the ledge behind him, where he had been kneeling a few moments before.

"Why did you attack the mansion?" Damian asked, ignoring the voice in his head.

"Violence saddens me, but it is the will of the transcendental Master. He desires that we chase away the ghoul that resides in the mansion, for his presence is an affront to our Master."

"What do you mean, _"affront"_?"

_"Jackson, leave him. And go back to the cathedral and prepare for the assault on the ghoul."_

This time Jackson acted like he had also heard the voice. He turned to the ledge and bowed.

"When you wish to leave, borrow this ladder."

He pointed to a ladder, attached to a stone pillar, which led up to the vault of the cave.

"Blessed to you on your journey."

Jackson left the ledge and began to climb the ladder. Damian approached the table. On top of it was a metal object, looking like a projector.

_"Come closer,"_ echoed the authoritative voice in Damian's head.

He put his hand forward and touched the object. Immediately, a blue light flashed from it and a trembling holographic projection formed above the object. The projection was rounded, and several curved lines ran out of it like wires.

_"So, you are the last sheep of this tribe of savages? I've seen more impressive, but at least you're not drooling over yourself."_

The voice resonated in Damian's mind and every word sounded like an unpleasant buzzing in his head. The holographic projection depicted a brain, lined with electrical wires. Damian looked again at it to make sure that no one was hiding with him in the cave, but he had to face the fact that it was this brain talking to him.

"You... You're what?"

_"You're looking at a holographic projection, but I'm sure you noticed it yourself. What you're looking at is actually one of America's greatest pre-war minds, preserved by science and its miracles."_

"Wait... You were born before the Great War? You've been floating in a jar of formaldehyde for two centuries?"

_"It's always more elegant than wandering through eternity as a putrid, radiation-filled corpse, don't you think?"_

"So, you're the one who's leading the tribe? But how?"

_"This Jackson guy thinks I'm some kind of god. That's nice, even if his interpretation of my orders needs some… Improvement. Since you came down here, I might as well use you."_

Damian felt that the hum in his head was getting louder and louder and more unpleasant. He found it hard to concentrate and he was holding back from wincing in pain.

"Who are you exactly?"

The brain sighed for a long time before his voice resonated in Damian's head again.

_"You ask too many questions. I brought you all the way from the swamp to me because you're going to help me with an important case."_

"So, you know who made a hole in my skull?"

_"I'm not interested in the primitive beliefs and rituals of these savages,"_ whistled at the brain. _"Now shut up, and listen. At Calvert Mansion, there's a ghoul, but you already know that because you've been there. This ghoul, this Desmond, has been giving me trouble for far too long. You're going to get rid of that ghoul, and you're going to destroy his jammer."_

"I have no idea what you're talking about! What jammer? And what's this about?"

_"The reasons why Desmond and I are fighting are far too complex for your little brains. The only pressing issue is a device he has. A jammer, which limits my projection to this cave, although I can sometimes send waves into the swamp for a very short time."_

Hearing this, Damian understood a little better the sudden invisible force that had driven him back to the cathedral after the ritual.

_"So, you're going to go back to the mansion, to dear Desmond, and destroy this jammer. If you succeed, I will be... Generous. Now get out of here!"_

The holographic projection ceased on its own. The buzzing in Damian's head stopped abruptly and he let out a sigh of relief. He massaged his skull and his scar and tried to come to his senses.

He had discovered the reasons for the attack on the mansion. The tribals had nothing to do with it and were only the instruments of this authoritarian-looking brain. He and Desmond had been fighting for 200 years, for some obscure reason, and Damian was beginning to wonder if the ghoul and the brain still knew why they were fighting after all this time.

He had entered a science-fiction delirium. The holographic projection of a human brain had just telepathically addressed him and ordered him to destroy a jammer for God knows what reason.

Mechanically, Damian walked to the ladder, and began to climb the slippery rungs of moisture and mold.

"I'm going crazy."

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Until next time.**


	65. Chapter 65: Mind control

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Please enjoy today's chapter.**

* * *

_(Cliffs near Ark & Dove Cathedral, 45 minutes earlier)_

Nadine watched the young man in full combat armor descend the cliff by a small path. With a movement of her head, she took off her red hair that was blowing in the wind and rubbed her arms. The young man was heading towards a shipwreck, half embedded in the cliff. From there, he would reach a cave, serving as a place of meditation for the chief of the Point Lookout tribe who occupied the Cathedral of Ark & Dove, behind Nadine, and find out why they had launched a general assault on an abandoned mansion, to dislodge the ghoul who lived there.

The young man's head was turned toward the ocean. After a few seconds contemplating the immense expanse of water, he entered the wreck and disappeared from Nadine's field of vision. The young woman walked away from the edge of the cliff and headed towards the cathedral.

Inside, the natives were going about their daily business. They were praying, tending the hydroponic Punga fruit plants or, for most of them, sitting in a corner, staring blankly and drooling.

This was the result of a ritual that the tribals practiced and inflicted on their new members. Those who wished to join the tribe were sent to the depths of the Point Lookout swamp. There, they were to enter the _"Sacred bog"_ which contained a large Punga tree and _"find wisdom"_, as the church doorman said. Those who succeeded were then sprayed with a stream of spores released by the seeds of the tree that rendered them unconscious. This was followed by a surgical procedure in which the unfortunate ones had their skulls cut open and part of their brains removed. The results of such an operation were generally all the same, an amorphous subject, unable to pronounce a simple sentence correctly and plunged into a vegetative state for the rest of his life. There were, however, a few exceptions. Some members of the tribe had remained themselves but suffered mentally and physically from the operation.

Nadine had been with the tribe for a week. When she arrived at Point Lookout, she expected to discover a land full of wealth, as Tobar, the smuggler who had brought her from the ruins of D.C., had mentioned. Instead, the young woman had found a swampy land, untouched by the blast of nuclear explosions or the direct impact of a warhead, but which had suffered from two centuries of radioactive fallout and isolation.

The locals did not like strangers and the girl had found this on several occasions. She was capable of handling herself, and although she was the kind of girl to attract trouble, Nadine was not crazy enough to continue venturing out into the marsh alone only to be raped and eaten by one of its inhabitants.

Realizing that Point Lookout was not the land of treasures promised by Tobar, Nadine had thought about going back before she changed her mind and found something that would allow her to assert and make a name for herself when she returned to the Capital Wasteland. She had noticed that local food, especially Punga fruit, could be grown and that it had medicinal properties, capable of curing radiation, although less effectively than a RadAway infusion. These fruits were also quite addictive and therefore ensured that whoever grew and sold them would see customers return on a regular basis.

The young woman decided to gather as many Punga as she could and when she learned about this tribe living in the cathedral and growing the fruit, Nadine decided to join them to try to get her hands on more Punga in a short period of time.

The young woman had reluctantly agreed to go through the entrance ritual. After crossing the swamp and breathing in the spores, she lost consciousness like the others. When she woke up in the cathedral, she had no memory of what had happened to her and her memory of certain parts of her life was fuzzy or even absent. She had been lucky, however, and had suffered only memory loss, a migraine for two days and a large scar on her head.

After she recovered, she set aside as many Punga plants as she could. Every night, she left the cathedral with a few fruits and hid them in a carnival shop near the Point Lookout pier. Every night, for almost a week now, she brought new plants and made sure that her stash was always intact and full.

In the meantime, she had discovered that it was not the tribals who were directly responsible for her scar. They supported the ritual and surgery but did not perform it. Her doubts began to arise when she saw Tobar at the Cathedral, leaving with a crate full of Punga, just as a new member of the tribe appeared. She had also learned that whenever the ritual took place and a new unfortunate person had his head cut open, Tobar was never far away and always stopped by the church to pick up a crate of fruit.

The young woman wanted to confirm her doubts when a young man in combat armor with a Pip-Boy arrived from the swamp with a scar on his head. He had come to Point Lookout only to find Nadine and give her a message from her mother and bring her back to D.C.. They had stayed for a while at the Cathedral and Nadine had discreetly watched for Tobar's arrival. But the ferryman did not show up. As she began to question the connection between Tobar and the ritual, she saw him enter and leave with a crate of Punga on his arms.

Nadine hid behind a bush between the cemetery and the church and watched him. The ferryman had not noticed her, and he was on his way to the carnival to put the fruit on his boat.

Wanting to verify her doubts, she decided to follow him. Once at the carnival, Tobar had stopped at Mrs. Panada's store and picked up a bag of caps. Nadine remembered that he had explained to her that he received a commission on the sales of this store, and she had been careful not to go there.

Tobar had gone back to his ship and stowed the Punga plants in the cabin and then settled down near the dock in a folding chair with a cigarette in his hand and a small fishing rod.

Hidden behind the metal curtain of an ice stand, the young woman was spying on the boatman, waiting for an opportunity to get on the boat and do some digging. Tobar seemed determined to stay put and the young woman lost her patience. She left the stand and returned to her stash, next to the Ferris wheel.

Hidden behind the lowered curtain of a stand, her Punga hiding place was still intact. The young woman made sure that no one could see her and entered before closing the curtain behind her. She grabbed a small flashlight and operated the button. The beam weaved for a few moments and Nadine tapped the back of the lamp. The light stabilized, illuminating a small space filled with wooden crates overflowing with Punga fruit. The result of several nights carrying the tribe's crops and collecting the few plants around the pier.

Nadine heard noise outside. She turned off the lamp and leaned against the wall of the stand. Someone was walking in the fairground, his boots hitting the deck wood on the ground. Few people came into the fairgrounds. Only the adventurers who disembarked via Tobar's boat or the locals, but they usually content to barter with Panada and would immediately go back to the swamp.

The young redheaded girl slid along the wall and put down the flashlight. She grabbed a switchblade on her thigh and looked through one of the holes in the wall. A person walked into the fairground and came towards her.

_"Who could that be? There's nothing here but the Ferris wheel,"_ the young woman thought.

The footsteps came closer and she saw a familiar silhouette pass in front of the stand. The young man in combat armor and Pip-Boy. He was moving with a determined step towards the Ferris wheel.

"_What's he doing there?"_ the young woman wondered.

She waited for a few moments and when she could no longer hear the footsteps, left her hiding place. Even though she liked this young man and had helped him, she did not entirely trust him and did not want him to find her hiding place.

Nadine gently closed the iron curtain and looked around her. The young man was standing at the foot of one of the cabins of the Ferris wheel. She approached, hiding her switchblade in her back.

As she approached, she noticed that the young man was holding his head and talking to himself. He had in his hands an electronic device, about the size of those old pre-war radios, flat, with two antennas and an electronic keyboard.

Nadine climbed the ramp leading to the Ferris wheel and stopped behind the barrier. She watched the young man who seemed to be delirious. A shiver ran down her spine when she saw him shaking gently and shaking his head.

"Get out of my head, you sick bastard! I don't take orders from you or Desmond!"

Nadine was startled. She looked around but saw only herself and the young man.

"Shut the fuck up!" the young man suddenly cried out.

The young woman saw him writhing in pain and could hear him clenching his teeth and growling.

"Shut up!" the young man shouted.

He placed the object on the cabin of the big wheel and turned towards the lever that operated the carousel. The wheel started to move, squeaked and began to turn.

The young man held his head and shouted in pain. Nadine was petrified. She could feel her legs trembling with fear. She had seen many things in the Wasteland or in that swamp, but nothing so disturbing.

The young man stood up and looked at the Ferris wheel. Nadine looked up at the carousel. The cabin on which he had glued the object was at the top. The young man tried to reach the lever to stop the carousel but he fell on the ground, screaming and twisting in pain

Nadine rushed to him. She looked at him for a moment, then to the Ferries wheel. She approached the control panel and pulled the lever. The wheel stopped.

The young man was silent and had stopped moving. Nadine thought he was dead. She approached slowly.

He slowly opened his eyes and stood up, holding his head. He breathed in and out several times and turned his head towards the big wheel. He noticed the presence of Nadine and turned his head towards her.

"You?" he said raising his eyebrows. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," said the young woman.

They stared at each other for a brief moment. The young man glanced nervously at the stalls and the rest of the fairgrounds. Nadine was desperately trying to remember the young man's name. He had given it to her, but she had not paid attention.

"Are you all right?" asked the young redhead. "You looked like you had quite a headache."

"I'm fine, thank you," replied the young man, massaging his head. "Why are you here?"

Nadine quickly thought of an answer and opened her mouth. Suddenly the young man jumped on her. He grabbed her by the arm and pushed her inside the cabin of the Ferris wheel.

"Get down!" the young man shouted.

Immediately afterwards, a shot rang out in the carnival.

_(Sea Cave, 20 minutes earlier)_

Damian put his sweat-soaked forehead on one of the rungs of the ladder and took a deep breath. The climb had tired him more than he had imagined, despite his physical condition. He straightened his head and looked above him. A few more meters and he would reach a grate that would bring him to the surface.

He took another deep breath and climbed the last few meters. His head was still buzzing a bit from the telepathic discussion he had had with the brain. The brain seemed to know Desmond well, and Damian hoped the ghoul would give him more information.

The gate was unsealed, and Damian tilted it before exiting the cave. He looked around him. The cemetery was right next door, as was the cathedral. Nadine had had to go back as soon as he had left for the cave. He would only have to come back for her and try to convince her to come back with him to D.C., although he guessed it would be a difficult task.

He would also have to find Sydney and Emaline. The two treasure hunters were to meet him at the motel at the end of the day and Damian hoped nothing had happened to them.

Damian headed straight to the mansion. The tribals had probably launched another attack, judging by the few corpses around the building and the small craters in the garden.

Damian entered, without bothering to knock. If Desmond was still alive, he would have seen him arrive from his control room.

The ghoul was standing in front of his many screens, his hands clasped behind his back. He gave a brief glance at Damian before turning his attention to the security cameras.

"So, you decided to accept my offer?" the ghoul asked curtly.

"It was not the chief of the tribe who ordered the attack, well, not exactly."

"What do you mean? Stop beating around the bush!" cried Desmond, turning around.

Damian clenched his jaw, tired of the ghoul's foul attitude. He was convinced that Desmond would not believe him, but he explained to him what he had seen in the cave.

"There's a holographic projector under the cathedral with... A projection of a talking brain, using telepathy. He's the one pulling the strings."

Desmond stared at Damian. To his surprise, instead of the stream of insults he had expected, Damian saw a smile on the ghoul's face.

"I knew it! I fuckin' knew it! I knew he was behind this!"

The ghoul started walk in the room while talking.

"That old bastard finally got his head out of his hole after all these years!"

"Who are you talking about? That brain seemed to know you, and it's obviously mutual."

Desmond stood still. He seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, then turned to Damian.

"This brain, belongs to Professor Calvert. Yes, the same Calverts who owned this mansion before the Great War. He and I are old rivals, and I may be responsible for its... Present condition."

"Rivals in what way?" Damian asked.

"I knew that wanker would be dumb enough to hide near his house," continued the ghoul, pretending not to have heard the question.

Damian repeated his question, and this time Desmond answered.

"Your little brain couldn't understand. Now stop asking me questions and listen."

"Asshole," Damian whispered between his teeth.

Desmond walked to a military canteen and unlocked it.

"Well, those lunatics at the cathedral are taking orders from Calvert. Which means he has to broadcast from somewhere," explained the ghoul as he searched.

Damian approached but stepped aside when the ghoul turned around holding a flat, rectangular device with two antennas and a small keyboard.

"Without an army of minions at his service, I doubt if he can do much," continued Desmond, who had walked to a table and started to turn on and calibrate his strange device. So, we're depriving him of his ability to talk to them and see what he can do. With a bit of luck, I'll crush his ugly little face once and for all."

The ghoul confronted Damian and stuck the device in his hands.

"What's this thing?"

"Calvert uses high-frequency cognitive waves. With that, we'll jam his emissions and make him mute, and by _"we"_ I mean _"you"_."

"And how do I do that?" Damian asked, spinning the jammer in his hands.

"Set it up on the highest point of the damn swamp, then I'll activate the jammer and that's it."

"The Ferris wheel at the carnival on the docks? You think that'll be enough?"

Desmond thought for a few seconds before he nods his head.

"It'll do the trick," he said. "Once the jammer's in one of the pods, take it up and stop it at the top. I'll take care of the rest. When that's done, we'll finally see where dear Professor Calvert's holed up."

The ghoul went back to watching his surveillance screens, meaning that the conversation was over. Damian sighed and left the mansion.

Emaline and Sydney still had not returned from the swamp. Damian would have needed the help of the two young women, but he did not want to involve them in this strange story. He entered the carnival, deserted. The only sounds he could hear were those of the waves, the wind, and the clattering of his boots on the ground.

Damian looked up at the big wheel. He hoped inwardly that the Ferries wheel would not need an additional power source. On his way to the carousel, he took the opportunity to take a look at the Duchess Gambit, Tobar's boat. The boat was still there, and Tobar was there, fishing.

He arrived at the foot of the Ferris wheel and climbed up the small ramp in front of the carousel. Damian stopped. His head was hurting him. He heard a buzzing and a whistle and then a voice echoed in his head.

_"What have we here?"_

Damian looked around waving his assault rifle but saw no one.

_"No need to look, I'm in your mind. It's me, Professor Calvert."_

"What do you want from me?" Damian asked.

_"Look at that, Desmond's little poodle is showing its fangs. You and that disgusting ghoul wanted to destroy my work? I have a better idea for you."_

The buzzing intensified, and Damian began massaging his head in the hope of alleviating the returning migraine.

_"How about instead of playing his little game, you destroy the device in your hands?"_

Damian looked at the jammer.

"How... how do you know about that?"

_"It's very simple,"_ Calvert laughed. _"I've never left your mind, ever since our meeting in the cave. I must thank you, by the way. Without you, I would never have known about Desmond's plan."_

The migraine was getting worse and worse, so much so that Damian's vision became blurred.

_"Just put it in the trash compactor next to the carousel and we won't have to worry about anything."_

"Get out of my head, you sick bastard! I don't take orders from you or Desmond!"

_"You don't? Then what are you doing here?" _hissed the voice of the brain.

"Shut the fuck up!" suddenly cried Damian.

_"My gratitude is worth more than that ghoul's!"_

Damian had a feeling his head was about to burst. The pain was unbearable. He began to stagger and could no longer think clearly. All he wanted was for that pain to stop. Calvert kept talking to him. The more the voice resonated in his head, the worse the pain got.

"_Destroy the damn jammer!"_

"Shut up!" Damian screamed.

He placed the jammer on the cab of the Ferris wheel and turned to the lever that operated it. The wheel started to move, squeaked and began to turn, raising the cab at the same time.

_"Imbecile! You little shit! What have you done! I'll make you pay for this! You're gonna pay for this!"_

Damian felt an excruciating pain go through his skull, as if billions of frozen needles had just pierced him. He took his head in his hands and screamed. Tears came to his eyes. He had never felt such pain before.

Damian did everything he could to keep his eyes on the cabin, but the pain was too much. The cabin on which he had glued the jammer was at the top. Damian gathered his strength and headed for the lever but the pain made him fall on the ground. He was writhing in pain. Calvert's voice was cursing him in a loop in his head and he could feel his brain on fire.

Seconds later, he stopped talking and stopped moving. The pain had stopped, abruptly. No more migraine, no more buzzing or whistling, no more voices in his head.

Damian stood up, inhaled and exhaled for a long time several times and turned his head towards the Ferris wheel. Desmond's jammer was working, Calvert's telepathic power no longer had any effect on him.

Damian heard a noise next to him and turned his head. He saw Nadine's flaming hair. The young woman was with him, in front of the carousel.

"You?" said Damian surprised. "What are you doing here?"

He was convinced that the young redhead was at the cathedral. Had she followed him here? For what purpose?

"I could ask you the same question," said the young woman.

They stared at each other for a brief moment. Nadine seemed worried. If she had witnessed the scene, Damian could only understand why she looked so disturbed. He too would have been shocked to see someone react as he did, without understanding what he was seeing. He saw that the lever was pulled down. He looked at Nadine and understood that she had just saved his life.

"Are you okay?" asked the young redhead. "You looked like you had quite a headache."

"I'm fine, thank you," Damian replied, massaging his head. "Why are you here?"

The young woman seemed to be thinking of an answer. Damian spotted a shadow on the roof in a stall behind the young woman's back. A figure of a man, in rags, holding a rifle in his hands. The man stepped to the edge of the roof and aimed his gun towards Damian. Damian grabbed Nadine by the wrist and ordered her to bend down and pushed her into the Ferris wheel cabin.

Damian dove next to her, just before the assailant fired. The bullet hit the ground just where Damian was standing a few seconds earlier. He grabbed his assault rifle. His head was still hurting, and he was not sure if he would hit his target on the first shot. He fired a blind burst and forced his assailant to take cover.

"Stay behind me and keep your head down!" Damian shouted to the young woman, while firing another burst.

Damian stood up and when the gunman raised his head to fire, he shot him. The man fell from the roof into a dumpster.

"Look out!"

Nadine grabbed Damian by the shoulders and swung him to the left. Another man was standing on a roof, ready to shoot them. Damian pulled the trigger. The long burst perforated the man's abdomen and he fell backwards.

Footsteps came from the carnival and the ramp. Three tribals with axes burst in front of them. Damian took out two of them with the remaining bullets in his magazine. The third jumped at them with his axe above his head.

Damian heard a gunshot and saw the man trip and fall at his feet. He looked over his shoulder and saw that Nadine had grabbed his 10mm pistol and had shot the man.

Silence fell again. Damian and Nadine, still in the cabin, were observing the surroundings and especially the roofs.

"Wow, you don't mess around when it comes to shooting people," said Nadine.

"I've had some practice at it," Damian replied, putting a new magazine into his assault rifle. "You're not bas either."

He left the cabin with the butt of his rifle against his shoulder.

"Stay there."

Nadine nodded silently and watched Damian walk away. He approached the railing and the small iron railing and heard a scream. He looked down and saw a tribal, just below him, pointing a lever gun in his direction. Damian deflected the barrel of the gun with his foot and felt the breath and warmth of the bullet go past him. The tribal stumbled back. Damian jumped over the railing and at the same time kicked the tribal, who fell to the ground stunned.

"I think it's clear," Damian said.

He turned around and watched Nadine coming down the ramp to join him. Damian picked up the rifle on the knocked out tribal and gave it to Nadine who handed him his pistol back.

"Why are they shooting at us?" the redheaded girl asked.

Damian had an idea. Just before the jammer went off, Calvert must have ordered the tribals to kill him if he activated the device. Or he must have ordered the natives to follow him and get his cooperation. If what Calvert had told him about spying on his conversation with the ghoul was real, it meant that Desmond was in danger.

"I have to go back to the mansion right away," Damian exclaimed.

"Why?" Nadine asked.

"There! The infidel!"

At the end of the alley of stalls and shops, two tribals were pointing shotguns at them and three others were running at them with shovels and axes.

Damian grabbed Nadine by the hand and they ran for cover against a wall.

She aimed and fired at the tribals who were running towards them, wounding one in the hip. A bullet slammed into the barrel of her rifle and she dropped the gun in a hiccup of surprise.

"Are you all right?"

Nadine nodded her head and massaged her wrists, sore from the shock. Damian sent a burst and mowed down the two tribals with shovels.

"The roof! To the right!"

Damian pointed his weapon in the direction indicated by the young redhead and fired as soon as he saw the silhouette of a tribal.

Two hands grabbed the smoking barrel of Damian's weapon and the massive silhouette of a tribal appeared at the corner of the wall. Damian retreated several steps back under the force of his opponent, when he felt his opponent weaken. A dark stain grew on his ribs and Damian caught the brightness of the blade from the corner of his eye. He swung his foot into the tribal's crotch and broke free before crushing the back of his skull with the butt of his rifle.

Damian aimed his rifle into the alley. There were no more tribals in sight.

"I think it's over, for good this time."

He turned to Nadine, who wiped the blade of her switchblade, stained with blood, on her tunic.

"Thank you, Damian said. Now, why don't you tell me what you're doing here?"

Nadine seemed to think of an answer again before she sighed.

"I came to check on something. I think I know who put this hole in our noggin."

"Are you sure?" Damian exclaimed.

"Not yet, but I'm on to something."

Damian would have liked to assist her in the investigation, but he had to get back to the mansion as soon as possible. Calvert was probably going to throw the whole tribe against Desmond, and even if he did not like the ghoul, Damian was not going to let him get slaughtered.

"I need to go back to the mansion and settle this once and for all. You be careful. If you need help, go to the motel near the carnival. You should find two women there, a brunette and a redhead in full battle armor. Their names are Sydney and Emaline. Tell them who you are, and they'll help you."

Nadine hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded. Damian retrieved one of the tribal's rifle and a few rounds of ammunition, then rushed to the mansion.

Damian's legs were hurting. As he climbed up the road, he glanced nervously at the manor house and the church, watching for the presence of the tribals, but also at the swamp, in case some of the locals had the idea of targeting him.

Out of breath, he arrived in front of the building. The bodies of the tribal were still there and he did not hear a shot. A heat wave whipped his face. A gigantic fireball materialized at the site of the mansion. Damian felt the blast hit his chest and the shock wave resonated throughout his body, just before it was thrown back and hit the ground violently.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Until next time.**


	66. Chapter 66: The Monsters

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Today, Dmore of Point Lookout and the Calverts secrets are uncovered and Damian learns the truth about his scar.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

_(Point Lookout swamp, ten minutes earlier)_

"That's right, assholes! Get out of here! If I ever see your ugly faces again, I'll shoot your asses with my SMG!"

Sydney fired one last burst into the marsh, where moments earlier a group of swamp folks had come out to attack the two treasure hunters. Her 10mm bullets got lost in the swamp.

She and Emaline had walked through the swamp all day long, encountering nothing but trees, insects and a few feral ghouls.

The land of treasure, promised by Tobar, the ferryman of the ship that had brought them here from D.C., had not been met. However, he had been right about one thing, Point Lookout was a mysterious place. The swamp seemed to be an singular entity, as if the radioactive fallout from the Great War had given it a life of its own.

The two young women had made the decision to return to the motel, near the pier, and leave the next morning. On the way back, they had stumbled upon the wreckage of a car and a caravan, with a leaflet inside, devoured by mold and dampness, about a museum dedicated to the region and its history. The two treasure hunters had then exchanged glances and set out to find this museum.

They had finally found it, as well as a monument to the dead, dating from the Civil War, a period of History now forgotten for many, but which was of interest to one of the two young women's acquaintances.

The museum, relatively intact, had not been looted, at least not in the way the two women intended. The building was full of outfits, objects and even weapons, dating back to that period.

Sydney and Emaline had jumped of joy when they saw these treasures and thought of the astronomical amount of caps they were going to get from Abraham Washington, the owner of the Rivet City Museum, to whom, with Damian's help, they had brought the Declaration of Independence of the United States from the vault of the National Archives on the Mall.

Emaline had found a crate in good condition, and they had hastily loaded it with everything they could not put in their pockets.

On their way out of the swamp they had come across a group of swamp folk with the same deformities as those at the carnival and had been attacked. Emaline had seen fit to take a few grenades with her, and most of their assailants had ended up with a missing limb or shrapnel-crippled rib cage.

The last attackers had fled into the swamp.

"What are you going to do with all the caps we're going to make?" asked Emaline.

"Same thing I did last time. Eat, get drunk and get laid," smiled Sydney.

"That sounds like a reasonable plan."

Emaline winked at her friend.

"Do you think he found that girl?" Emaline asked after a silence.

"I don't know."

"He'll have to understand that he can't save everyone. If this girl came here, it's maybe for good reasons."

"Good luck explaining that to him," smiled Sydney.

A distant rumbling sounded. The two women looked at each other. They hurried out of the swamp.

"Holy shit..."

From the mansion that overlooked Point Lookout and where Sydney had joined Damian, a great cloud of smoke and dust rose up. Pieces of walls and roof were flying in the air and falling heavily all around.

"What's the fuck happened?" Emaline cried out.

"How should I know?"

"Do you have any idea how much explosive it takes to blow up a building like this?"

"We have to go and see! Maybe he was over there!"

"Yeah, well, if he was, there's probably not much left of him!"

Sydney picked up the pace and forced Emaline to keep up with him. They arrived near the motel and Sydney dropped the crate, placed her submachinegun across her chest and started running towards the cloud of smoke that was slowly disappearing.

"I'm going to check! You hide the crate and meet me up there!"

Emaline was about to object but sighed and nodded silently.

_(Calvert Manor, at the same time)_

Damian slowly opened his eyes. A spot of light was stuck on his retinas and he blinked several times to make it disappear. His eardrums hissed and the sounds around him were all muffled, as if cotton wool had been inserted into his ears. The last time he had been in this state was when the Enclave had bombed Liberty Prime.

An explosion. He remembered the big ball of fire, the shock wave and the blast. Damian got up painfully and dusted off the dirt, ash and small pieces of wood that covered him.

The mansion was gone. Instead, on the cliff, a crater with a few pieces of concrete slabs still anchored in the ground. The wooden walls and slate roof had been blown away. The small surrounding wall no longer existed and the metal skeleton of the garden greenhouse was half melted.

Damian smelled a burning odor emanating from him and from the smoking remains of the mansion. Covered in soot and dirt, he walked towards the crater. There was nothing left but small flames that crackled softly and finished gnawing at a piece of wood, a tree or a bush.

He had a headache, but it was not due to Professor Calvert's waves. Damian felt an itch in his brain. Although Calvert's cerebral waves could no longer reach him, he was sure he could hear him laughing inside his head.

Damian walked into the crater and heard a hollow sound under his foot. He tapped several times and a hollow, metallic sound answered him. He knelt down and pulled the earth off the ground to reveal a trap door. He lifted the trap door that hid a small ladder, attached to a concrete wall, which descended about ten meters down to a dimly lit corridor.

"Desmond?" called Damian.

He got no answer, probably because of the whistling in his eardrums. He prepared his pistol and started to climb down the ladder. When he put his foot on the last rung, he felt a hand grab his shoulder and force him to turn around.

"Oh, it's you," said Desmond's weak voice.

The ghoul had survived by hiding in what looked like a small antiatomic bunker, filled with shelves and cupboards overflowing with food, weapons, ammunition, and TV screens broadcasting nothing but static.

"That bastard killed my dogs! He almost killed me!"

"What did you say?" Damian shouted.

Damian rubbed the inside of his ears, as if he wanted to unclog them. Desmond must have been angry and screaming, but the explosion had temporarily made him almost deaf.

"That fucking brain in his bowl of formaldehyde tried to blow me up! Me! I'm gonna show him that you don't kill Desmond Lockheart that easily!"

"Speak up! What was that explosion?"

"I know where he is, and you and I are going to pay him a little visit."

The ghoul kept moving his lips, but Damian could barely hear anything. Desmond was packing a bag and stuffing several rifles and handguns and ammunition into it.

Damian's hearing came back gradually, however, he needed Desmond to shout to be able to understand what he was saying, which did not change much in the ghoul's behavior.

"Do you know where Calvert is?" Damian asked, picking up the few grenades Desmond pointed at him.

"That little bastard is here. All this time, he was there, right under my nose! That sack of shit is hiding under the lighthouse, right next to the mansion!"

"How do you know that?"

"When I activated the jammer, Calvert sent out a series of more powerful waves, hoping to bypass the jamming. All he managed to do was get his followers to come and blow up my mansion and my two dogs. That's how I located him."

"What do you think we're gonna find under the lighthouse? A lab?"

"That's right. Now shut up and follow me."

Desmond armed his rifle and started to climb the ladder to the surface and Damian followed him. They headed for the lighthouse, which was on a small island about a hundred meters from the mansion. The beach and the sea were littered with pieces of wood, thrown from the manor house with the explosion.

The lighthouse did not seem to have been visited for centuries. Desmond knocked down the door with his shoulder and rushed inside. The inside of the lighthouse was frozen in time as the bombs fell. Several skeletons laid on the concrete floor or on the great red iron spiral staircase.

Desmond approached a small electrical box and after opening it, unplugged a few wires. Immediately, a large trap door opened in the floor, revealing a staircase and a small corridor, with cereamic walls. The place reminded Damian of the one in Vault 112, under the garage lost in the middle of the Wasteland. During his explorations in the Capital Wasteland, he probably missed many places, or hidden bunkers, dating from before the Great War.

"You stop daydreaming," spat out Desmond's hoarse voice, who was already at the bottom of the stairs.

Damian joined him up to a large metal door with a small opaque glass and wire mesh.

The underground complex consisted of a single tilled corridor. The concrete ceiling was covered by several pipes and electrical ducts that sunk to the depths of the laboratory. The corridor was almost always downhill. Somewhere in the bunker, Damian could hear an alarm sounding. Desmond was moving fast, without really taking care of Damian who was doing his best not to lose sight of the ghoul.

They arrived in a rectangular room that was once to serve as a reception area. A large wooden counter on the left, with computers, entries registers, files. On the wall, several security screens that had been turned off were collecting dust. On the right, a door leading to a toilet.

In the center, a pillar covered with ceramic supported the ceiling, where two automatic turrets were fixed. The site did not seem to have been in operation for a long time, but the current was still flowing. Emergency lighting was on and the reception terminals were humming softly on the counter.

Desmond signaled Damian to stop and pointed to the two turrets on the ceiling. They each chose one and fired at the same time.

"It's all clear," the ghoul hissed.

He crossed the room and went through a metal security door, before advancing into another corridor, identical to the previous one. Doors to changing rooms, washrooms, storage closets, and occasionally a small office were scattered throughout the corridor.

Suddenly, a shape stood out at the end of the corridor. A grey cylinder, on a pair of tracks, topped by a small oval capsule where a brain was floating in a greenish liquid, two elastic arms on the side, ending in clamps.

Desmond raised his rifle and, with a bullet, exploded the jar containing the brain. When deactivated, the machine came to a standstill and fell slowly to the ground in a metallic crash.

Damian was surprised to find Robobrain, the same ones that had welcomed him to Vault 112. Professor Calvert said he was an eminent pre-war scientist. Damian started to think that Calvert was probably one of the founders of the project to implant a human brain into a machine, which could explain how he had survived the Great War for two centuries, and he looked like one of those Robobrains.

Desmond did not give him time to think further about it and went past the wreckage of the robot to continue down the corridor.

Damian followed him, and they went past several small rooms, probably used as interrogation or test rooms, until they reached a circular room, with the walls hidden by turned off computer consoles. There were two more doors in the room. One locked on their right and the second opposite was intended to lead deeper into the laboratory.

Damian and the ghoul entered the room. As soon as they had passed the threshold, the door closed abruptly behind them.

"Damn it," the ghoul said.

A squeak told them that the door leading to the rest of the complex had closed and a red light came on above the door. The door on their right opened, revealing a small test room. A squeak sounded in front of them and Damian saw an automatic turret coming out of the ceiling. Desmond aimed his rifle and exploded the turret before it could fire.

"Let's search this room," said the ghoul.

He walked to the test room and Damian saw a Robobrain appear before Desmond. The machine swung its arm and sent the ghoul waltzing towards Damian. A laser beam hit the ground right next to them. Desmond raised his rifle and inserted a cartridge into the joint holding the jar of the robot. The jar broke loose and fell to the ground, spilling its contents on the floor.

"Damn machines," the ghoul hissed as he got up.

Damian got back on his feet and followed Desmond into the test room. The room was filled with computer consoles, recorders, chemistry utensils, microscopes, typewriters and paper.

Desmond was already searching the room, mumbling, as usual, insults at Calvert. He grabbed what looked like a small magnetic badge. Without saying a word, he returned to the circular room and placed the badge against a small console in the wall near the door. The red light turned green and the locks on the door disengaged and cleared the way for them.

The corridor continued to lead them further down the complex. They went past surgical rooms or infirmaries, with skeletons on some beds, with the top of their skulls removed or several of their limbs missing, and Damian shivered as he tried not to imagine what could happen in there before the Great War.

At the end of a corridor, guarded by a turret, was another security door.

"It's the right way," said Desmond, more for himself than to inform Damian.

Another Robobrain entered from a room on their right. Damian eliminated the turret while Desmond took care of destroying the robot.

The door was locked. Damian found a badge, similar to the one the ghoul picked up, in a room once used as an infirmary. He unlocked the door and felt Desmond jostle him and walk past. Damian grumbled and ran behind the ghoul.

They entered what must have been a security post, inhabited by a deactivated Robobrain. Desmond did not take long to search the room and entered the next corridor, lined with metal doors with a small trap door at head height, large enough to take a look at the other side.

"Cells? Why would they need cells inside such a place?" Damian said after looking inside one of them.

"We don't have time to play tourists! Calvert is close by! I can smell him! Can you hear me, Calvert? I'm going to pull you out of your jar and crush you like a maggot under my sole!"

Damian followed Desmond in silence, slowly realizing what sort of place he was in. This pre-war facility was the place where Robobrains were built and judging by the cells, the surgical rooms and the skeletons with severed limbs, it seemed to Damian that the participants for the experiment had very little consent to see their brains pulled out and put in jars.

The hallway ended in another circular room with two turrets. This time, Desmond signaled Damian to wait. From inside his suit, he grabbed a gray grenade, the same one used by the Rangers to disable the power armor of the Enclave soldiers in Seward Square.

The ghoul pressed the activation button and threw the grenade into the room. A bubble of electric arcs formed and fried the circuits in the turrets, which deactivated.

The door they had come through closed behind them.

"At last, there he is. Once inside, I'll go around and distract him. You get close to him, and on my signal, you shoot him."

Damian nodded silently. He grabbed his assault rifle and switched it to automatic mode. Desmond unlocked the last security door and rushed in immediately.

Calvert was there, in a large glass vat, floating in a blue liquid, above the void. Numerous cables and electrodes covered the brain and disappeared at the top of the tank. The room he was in was circular, with several arches surrounding the tank. Inside each arch was a standby Protectron robot.

"Finally, you son of a bitch, I've got you now," said a jubilant Desmond. "Our little game ends here and now."

Damian approached silently. He held his rifle firmly and his gaze alternated between Calvert's tank, Desmond and the rest of the room. Other vats were fixed above Cavlert's, probably to filter or replace the strange liquid in which he was floating.

"_Mr Lockheart,"_ Calvert's voice echoed through the loudspeakers. _"Here we are, at last, face-to-face, or should I say, jar-face."_

"Stop being funny, you filthy bastard, I'm going to finish our little game, right here and now."

"_You're an absolutely repulsive being, Desmond, how can you look at yourself in a mirror and not puke?"_

Damian came a little closer, Calvert's brain was turned to Desmond. Damian stepped onto a small metal footbridge.

_"Young man, I'm delighted to see you alive and well. Our little mental interviews have ended prematurely."_

Damian froze. Calvert's voice echoed in his head. Desmond kept talking and insulting the brain, and Damian could still hear the Professor's voice on the speakers.

"_You disappointed me at the Ferries wheel, I thought you were smarter than that."_

Desmond glanced furtively at Damian, wondering why he had not fired yet. Damian felt the headache coming back. His head would split in two. He was shaking and sweating. He was unable to move.

"Shoot!" Desmond shouted.

There was silence in the room, broken only by the faint hum of the vats.

"Shoot, damn it!"

"_My dear Desmond, you've sent me a very valuable assistant."_

"Shoot this putrid ghoul, and I will release you from your pain," Cavlert's voice hissed in Damian's head.

"Get out of my head, you son of a bitch..."

"_You're just a dirty little shitbag!"_

Desmond raised his rifle and fired at the tank. The glass cracked, but the brain was still intact.

"_Poor irradiated fool!"_ Calvert laughed into the speakers. _"You can't do anything to me!"_

The Protectrons started one after the other. Desmond fired at them but was soon overwhelmed. Damian slowly moved his rifle toward one of the robots. The pain in his head was terrible.

"_Help me kill this ghoul! Or I'll wipe out all your precious memories!"_

Desmond dropped a pulse grenade to get rid of the Protectrons and fired again at the vat, which cracked again. Calvert's mental hold ended. Damian took a deep breath as he was freed from the mental waves. He raised his gun and pulled the trigger. The roar of his assault rifle twisted his ears. The tank burst under the bullets and the brain fell to the ground a few feet below. A scream of terror echoed through the loudspeakers as the remaining Protectrons turned off.

Damian was in control again. Desmond was gone. Damian looked for him and found him below, standing in front of Calvert's brain on the floor.

The ghoul looked briefly over his shoulder as Damian joined him.

"_Miserable..."_ Calvert's voice whistled. _"How? How can it be? How can it be?"_

Desmond crushed the brain under his heel with an unpleasant sucking noise. He then turned to Damian.

"Finally, it's over," he said visibly relieved.

"He... He was in my head... Did your jammer stop working or what?"

"Yeah, I figured that out. I had my doubts, so I took an amplifier and I kept it with me."

He grabbed a small device, similar to the jammer, from inside his jacket.

"You son of a bitch," Damian hissed. "You could have warned me!"

"Stop whining. I saved your ass, didn't I? Now look at this place. Just look at it!"

Desmond looked around him, spreading his arms.

"Everything Calvert learned over the centuries is stored here, and now it's mine! It's mine!"

"Stop getting excited, you're going to hurt yourself."

"Moron," the ghoul said scornfully. "Do you have any idea how valuable all this is?"

"No, and I don't give a shit."

Desmond shrugged. He walked up to the security door. Damian glanced at the shattered brain on the floor. A sense of relief and accomplishment overwhelmed him. He was no longer going to suffer the Professor's mental attacks, and for him, that was the main thing. The ghoul's little war with the brain was none of his business and he did not care.

He found Desmond downloading the contents of databases on a holotape.

"You don't happen to know where's the exit?" Damian asked.

In response, Desmond pointed to a security door that opened automatically, and revealed a ladder. Damian turned to the ghoul to thank him, but Desmond was already admiring his loot.

Damian breathed a sorry sigh and climbed up the ladder. For him, nothing in this bunker was worth all the trouble, expect the death of Calvert. With him gone, the tribals would be freed from his influence.

The sun was starting to go down. The ladder had led him to an emergency hatch on a sandbank next to the lighthouse. He closed his eyes and sighed, enjoying the sea air whipping in his face.

He walked back to the cliff and heard a voice calling out to him. Damian looked up and saw Sydney by the beach leading to the mansion.

"What are you doing here?" Damian asked on his way to meet her.

"What are YOU doing here?" repeated the young woman. "What was that explosion? Shit, you look terrible. You're covered in soot and... Holy shit, what's that scar on your head?"

"I'll explain everything later. Come on, let's get out of this fucking swamp."

"You're a lucky guy, you know that?"

Damian and Sydney had met Emaline at the mansion crater and returned to the motel. Damian sat on the bed and massaged his face. As he brushed the scar, he remembered that Nadine must have been at the carnival.

"Have you seen Nadine? The girl I came looking for. She is alive. I left her at the carnival and told her to come here if she needed help."

The two young women exchanged glances.

"No," said Emaline. "We didn't see anyone. Sydney ran straight to the mansion after the explosion and I joined her after we stashed our loot."

"I have to go find her," Damian said as he stood up.

Regardless of the questions, he left the room, followed by the two relic hunters.

Damian placed his hands in a bullhorn and called out to the redheaded girl. Silence answered him.

Sydney and Emaline exchanged more and more worried looks. Damian looked different from the last time they had seen him this morning. Damian called again and, having no answer, he headed for the carnival and Tobar's boat.

"Look, are you sure this girl...?"

"Yes, I saw her. I talked to her, and no, it's not my imagination because of that scar," Damian replied.

He called again, and this time a whistle answered.

At the end of the pier, sitting on several wooden crates, Nadine waved to him, with a big smile. She had swapped her tribal dress for a short black skirt, tights with holes, military boots, a grey shirt and a light blue jacket.

She had a sawed-off shotgun strapped to her leg and Damian could see that she still had her switchblade in a small case on her inner thigh.

"You're back," said the young redhead with a broad smile. "You look like you've been through a lot. Guess you are to blame for that fucking explosion on the cliff?"

"Yes, it was me, but, what's all that?"

Damian pointed to the crates the young woman was sitting on. She smiled again and tapped it with the palm of her hand.

"A small souvenir, and a compensation, from the guy who cracked our skull open."

"Wait, what?"

Sydney and Emaline looked at each other in disbelief. They remained silent and let Damian and Nadine continue their conversation.

"You'll never guess who it is," said Nadine with a chuckle. "Come on, I give you a hint, you have already spoke to him, he's close by and now I'm in command of his boat."

"Tobar?"

"That's right. When the natives would send someone into the swamp, he would quietly wait for the Punga seeds to knock them unconscious. He'd do his little amateur surgery for the tribe, and in return, they'd give him a case of Punga. Juicy arrangement, don't you think?"

"Wait," said Sydney. "The guy who butchered him and gave him that scar is the ferryman?"

"Like I just said."

"Can someone explain to me?" Emaline asked.

Sydney told her what little she knew about the natives, while Damian continued to question Nadine.

"I... Are you sure?"

"It's not easy to digest, is it? I would have a hard time believing it, too, if I hadn't seen what he's hiding in the engine room of his ship."

"How did you find out about that?"

"When the mansion went up in smoke, he went away to look, and I took the opportunity to snoop around a little. When he came back, I waited for him and confronted. Bastard didn't even try to lie. Go and check for yourself, if you don't believe me, but I hope you have a strong stomach, shit's not pretty."

"And where is he now?" Emaline asked.

"In the engine room, with his little collection of brains. I wanted to kill him, but I figured you wanted to give him your regards first. We'll wait here for you."

Damian got on the boat and entered the engine room. The small room was like a house of horrors. On the walls were wooden shelves where about fifty small jars filled with formaldehyde were stacked. Inside, a piece of brain, more or less big. All the jars had a label, with a date and sometimes a name.

Tobar was in the back of the room. When he saw Damian come in and close the door behind him, he gave him a smile.

"But that's my favorite man! You've had quite a trip. You may not remember it, but while you were passed out, you told me a lot of things, a real chatterbox. Mama dying in childbirth, Papa running off and leaving you in the Vault and all that. Jesus, you couldn't stop talking about them and that girl. What was her name already? A…"

"You sick bastard!" Damian exclaimed. "How many people have you slaughtered like that?"

"Oh, you know, I've lost count, but I'd say, quite a few."

Tobar cracked with a chuckle.

"But you're more interested in what's missing from his head, aren't you? Here, it's right there."

He pointed to a jar, less dusty than the others. On the label, Damian could read his name and the date he arrived at Point Lookout.

"Why did you do that?"

Tobar laughed again.

"Why are we doing this? Why this, why that? You're roaming the Wasteland killing Raiders and mutants and giving a hand left and right, being all nice and stuff to those widows and orphans of the Wastes and you get a reward, like me."

"I'm not like you, you sick fuck."

Damian was seething with rage.

"It's a kind of passion for me. Collecting other people's bits of brain. And besides, my rewards are more medical and, I have to be honest with you. I think kill fewer people than you."

"You make me sick."

Damian could feel his hand shaking.

"Your hand is shaking, man, it wants to kill me, right?"

"If it could give me and Nadine our brains back, you'd be dead already."

"Ah, Nadine," smiled Tobar. "I mean, every man has his needs, but you… You're a special breed. You already have that girl, plus the two hot one you came with and still, you travel the world just for this one."

"I'm going to kill you, if you don't shut up," hissed Damian.

"Murder? Guess your father didn't really do a good job at raising you. Maybe your Mom would have succeeded?

"Don't you fucking dare talk about them, you fuckin' monster."

"Well you talked a lot about them while you were unconscious. I'm sure they are proud of you and what you've become. I mean, you've been killing your way since you left the Vault, so… Yeah, I'm sure they are proud. Don't deny the truth, man, you're as you said in the swamp a _"cold blooded killer bastard"_. You call me a monster, yet, all the people I get close to are still alive and well, unlike you."

Damian shook his head and let out a sound signifying his disgust.

"Oh, one last thing," Tobar said. "Since you are going to kill me anyway, do me a favor. When you'll bang Nadine, or her mother, or both, try to think about what I said. Or rather no, think about that brunette girl you kept talking about. I'm sure she'll love the monster that lives in your soul."

Damian stiffened. He closed his eyes and tried to control himself. Tobar giggled. A silver bolt of lightning slipped into his hand from the sleeve of his jacket. The smuggler hid a scalpel in his sleeve. Damian opened his eyes and saw Tobar about to strike. He raised his left hand to parry but felt the sharp tool going through the palm of his hand. He uttered a brief scream of pain.

Damian closed his wounded hand, preventing Tobar to remove the scalpel and punched him in the face and with a swift movement, broke the smuggler's elbow. A creak and a cry of pain escaped from Tobar who fell to his knees, moaning in pain.

Damian removed his hand. He thought he heard noises against the door.

Damian punched Tobar in the face. The ferryman looked at Damian, his eyes full of tears from the pain of his broken arm.

"Think about your parents... How would they react if they knew what you're doing to me?"

Damian smashed his knees into Tobar's nose and broke it.

"Stop it! Please! Please! Please!" cried the ferryman.

He tried to make his way to the door. Damian grabbed him and broke his knee with a sharp kick. The ferryman fell to the ground and yelled. He grabbed his scalpel with his non-broken arm and swung it at Damian.

Damian dodge a first swing and disarmed the ferryman who tried to crawl to the door. Damian grabbed his trench knife and punched Tobar with the spiked-knuckle guard.

Damian stopped when he realized that Tobar's face was nothing but a bloody pile of crushed bones, brain and skin.

Damian dropped his knife and looked at his hands, covered in blood. He saw three silhouettes above him staring at him in shock.

For a moment, he thought it was his parents, until he realized that it was Sydney, Emaline and Nadine. They had smashed the door and were looking at him and what was left of Tobar.

"_A hero who saves the Wasteland… That's bullshit… All I am is a monster and a murderer."_

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Until next time.**


	67. Chapter 67: In madness you dwell

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**In today's chapter, we end the Point Lookout DLC arc and resume the fight against the Enclave.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

Sydney, Emaline and Nadine were standing in front of Damian. He looked up at them with an absent look in his eyes. His hands were stained with blood. He was sitting astride Tobar, whose head seemed to have burst, the same way a ripe Mutfruit would look after being crushed with the foot.

"Damn it...," Emaline murmured. "What the hell happened here?"

About fifteen minutes earlier, Damian had entered the engine room of Tobar's boat, after Nadine revealed that he was the one who had removed part of their brains and left a large scar on their heads. Nadine had managed to lock the ferryman in the engine room after discovering his secret and offered to let Damian check it out for himself.

She and the two treasure hunters stayed outside and heard voices coming from the engine room, but could not understand the meaning of the conversation. It was when shouts and sounds of fighting began to come to them that the three women decided to intervene.

Not getting any response from Damian, the three women had broken down the door, only to discover the macabre scene unfolding before their eyes.

Damian got up slowly and without saying a word, picked up his knife, put it away in its case, and went to the passenger cabins and closed the door behind him.

"I'll get rid of his body," Nadine said after a brief silence.

The young redhead entered the engine room and began dragging Tobar's disfigured and disarticulated body, leaving a long dark trail in her wake.

"He butchered him," Emaline whispered to Sydney.

"This guy cracked open our skull and removed a piece of our brain. How would you have reacted?" Nadine asked, still dragging the corpse around.

"I would have killed him. The last time I saw a guy get butchered like that was when a gang of slavers tried to make one of their own pay for sleeping with a slave. That guy is fucking mad!"

"You heard what they said about him," said Sydney. "He ran the purifier at Jefferson Memorial, he saved children in Paradise Falls. He helped us too, how can you say he gets pleasure out of killing people if he's helping them from behind?"

"He helped YOU. Ever since he brought you your father's holotape, you've been putting that guy up on a pedestal. I'm telling you, this guy, he's crazy. He came here on purpose to save that girl, he must think he is some kind of messiah or some shit, the kind that's gonna save the world and get us back to pre-war civilization. I don't know what happened to him in that swamp, but I'm pretty sure it was no good for his mental health. Someday that guy's gonna blow a gasket, and I don't want to be there when he does."

"What about us? You don't think we're crazy? We get away with looting museums and graves. How many guys did we have to kill to stay alive and make sure we got our payment?"

"This is survival, Sydney, nothing more. What this guy's doing is leaving a trail of bodies in his wake, all because his Vault kicked him out."

Sydney glanced anxiously at the cabin.

"When we get back to D.C., I don't want to hear any more about this freak. I don't want to end up like that."

Emaline pointed to Tobar's body, which Nadine kicked into the water. The new owner of the Duchess Gambit spat on the corpse of the smuggler and rubbed her hands, before turning to the two treasure hunters.

"I'm setting sail for D.C., so if you want to leave, get your things together and get on board."

Nadine rang the foghorn and the ship's bell. She was going to need a lot of practice before she could pretend to handle the ship properly.

Emaline had stayed away from Damian, who had taken advantage of the return trip to D.C. to recount his journey to Sydney and Nadine.

"A talking brain? Shit, no wonder Jackson and those freaks at the Cathedral thought he was a God."

"It's still crazy, though. Who would go and have their brain removed and put in a giant vat just to stay alive? Can you imagine that? Having to stare at the same piece of wall for two centuries and not be able to do anything but talk to yourself? I'd rather be ghoulified."

"It's hard to imagine what people are willing to do to stay in the mood, but to end up in a jar of formaldehyde."

Damian glanced briefly at Emaline. The relic hunter was silently gazing at the horizon.

"Did you have a fight?" Damian asked.

"Let's say yes," Sydney answered hesitantly.

Damian did not ask for more information. He was thinking about what he had done to Tobar. Three times he had committed acts that made him look like a monster. Leaving Braun alive, alone in his simulation rather than killing him, refusing to help Pitt's slaves so as not to harm Ashur's daughter, and going after the man who had removed part of his brain.

"Do you think I'm going crazy?" he asked, lowering his eyes to his hands still reddened by the dry blood.

The two women looked at each other briefly.

"If it's that bastard Tobar you're worried about, I reassure you, the fate I had reserved for him was much worse than what you did."

"I don't think you're crazy," Sydney said. "We live in a shitty world where everyone's willing to kill everyone else to hope to stay alive another minute. Emaline and I walk around old museums collecting shit from a dead world and line our pockets and don't care about anything else. The Raiders kill and pillage as they please. Everybody's afraid that one day they'll end up with an explosive collar around their necks and in a cage serving some lunatic or warlord. You people help a lot of people. Without you, there's no clean water in the Wasteland. Reilly and her Rangers would be dead, and Megaton would still be living with the fear of being blown up by a warhead. Believe me, you're no crazier than anyone else in this world. You may even be the sanest person I know. So, stop messing with your mind like that. Tobar isn't the last bastard you're gonna see, and if Nadine hadn't locked him up or let him live, he would've gone on with his crazy surgical game for a long time, and who knows how many people he would've lobotomized."

Damian assimilated everything Sydney had just told him. What she was saying was right, but Damian couldn't get it out of his head, the fact that he could, lose control of himself and go into a rage, and most of all, that Tobar was right, that he had become a cold-blooded killer.

"You're a good guy. Shit, you brought me back my father's holotape. You found it by chance and decided to take it, to erase it and record something on it, but when Emaline mentioned my nickname, you thought about the tape. You could have said nothing and gone on your way, but instead you decided to give it to me and reconciled me with my father. I don't know many people in this world who would have done that.

"Thank you, Sydney," he said with a slight smile.

"Now come, I'll show you everything we collected in this museum."

The day was breaking slowly as they approached the ruins of D.C. The deserted coastal landscape had gradually given way to a few industrial ruins and small towns. A strange sense of relief came over Damian when he saw the Jefferson Memorial and the wreckage of the Rivet City aircraft carrier.

Nadine slowly approached the boat from the small pontoon. The ship's hull hit the pontoon's overhang and broke a few planks.

"Oops," said the redhead, looking down from the helm.

She turned off the engines and helped Damian and the others to hang up the mooring ropes.

"Nadine!"

Everyone turned towards the pontoon. The mother of the young redhead was there. She was waving at her daughter.

"Oh, my goodness! Nadine! Is that you?"

Nadine shyly smiled at her mother and waved her hand.

"I think that with this boat and all your cargo from Punga, you finally found what you had gone to look for," Damian said.

"Looks like yes," Nadine answered.

The young woman got off the boat. Her mother ran towards her and embraced her.

"My darling, I was so scared!"

"Hi, Mommy."

Damian gathered his things and went down, followed by Emaline and Sydney.

"Are you going to drag that crate to Rivet City?" Damian asked.

"I'm going to have to," said Sydney. "Unless that old fox from Abraham Washington comes to get this stuff himself."

"Need a hand?"

"No, that's okay. We'll make it through this together."

Damian waved goodbye the two treasure hunters as they began to pull away.

"By the way! Here you go!"

Damian turned around and grabbed the object Sydney was throwing at him.

"A little souvenir, from me and Emaline. Something to hide that nasty scar, until your hair grows back."

Damian turned the object in his hands. It was a gray kepi with two crossed rifles on the front. Damian put on the cap and thanked the two women.

"Thank you! Thank you very much! You brought my daughter back to me!"

Damian turned around and Nadine's mother grabbed his hands and squeezed them. Not knowing what to say, he nodded.

"Here," said Nadine, giving Damian a small purse. "I got this from Tobar's things."

Damian opened the purse and saw that it was filled with caps.

"For the inconvenience," said the young woman, preventing Damian from refusing the reward.

"Thank you."

"If you feel like going back to Point Lookout one of these days, let me know. I'll give you a price for the crossing."

"I think I'll pass on this one."

"Well, as you wish."

Nadine and her mother thanked him before getting on the boat and unloading the Punga fruit crates. Damian put the caps in his bag and turned to the ruins. Two soldiers of the Brotherhood were patrolling along the shore, and a merchant caravan began to approach the pontoon to barter.

Damian was exhausted. He had spent the whole day the day before running across the swamp and had not been able to sleep on the return crossing. He yawned loudly and heard a crackling sound on his hip. The Brotherhood radio went on and Tristan's voice came out of the loudspeakers.

"_Lone Wanderer, Pride actual, do you read me?"_

Damian grabbed the radio and answered the Paladin. As he walked, he made his way to the Citadel.

"_The Recon team has made contact. They are near the objective."_

"Really? Damian asked.

"_Affirmative. We just received their first transmission. Come back to the Citadel as soon as possible."_

"I'm on my way. Franklin out."

He hooked the radio to his hip and started running towards the Citadel. The walls of the Pentagon loomed before him, and Damian noticed that security had been heavily reinforced. Inside, the courtyard was seldom deserted except for the sentries and insiders cleaning the training ground.

"Hello Knight," one of the sentries greeted him. "Come, we're waiting for you in the briefing room."

Damian nodded and followed the soldier to the large room with its two tables in arcs of circles. Lyons was there, as were Tristan and Rothchild. Damian also saw some of the Pride members, and other officers of the Brotherhood including Cross. He had not seen the Star Paladin Cross since his mission to Vault 87 and nodded at her as he entered. Damian also noticed that Reilly and Butcher were there too.

The old Elder was standing by a table at which a radio operator was sitting. Lyons held the microphone right in front of his mouth and had a serious look on his face, the same look he had seen in preparation for the assault on Project Purity. Everyone present looked worried and almost no one noticed Damian's arrival as he sat down next to Rothchild.

"What's going on?" Damian whispered. "Tristan told me you received a report from the team on their way to the Enclave base."

"Yes," whispered the scribe. "We're on the line with them."

"And?"

In response, the radio crackled and a woman's voice came out of the speakers.

"_Citadel, Stalker 1. We are in position."_

"Stalker 1, status report. Where exactly are you?" asked Lyons.

"_Northwest of the base, on a hill. There's a dozen or so hangars, and as many buildings. The control tower looks like it's still operational. This place is huge."_

"All right, can you give me an estimate of the enemy's defenses and forces?"

The radio was silent for a few seconds.

"_The entire base is surrounded by a force field and defenses. Machinegun nests, mortars. They even have flak and the runway is crawling with Vertibird and I see a lot of activity around..."_

A sizzling and buzzing sound saturated the radio's speakers and the operator quickly lowered the volume. Damian thought he recognized the sound of a Vertibird engine.

"Stalker 1, repeat last please," said Lyons, visibly on edge. "Can you make an estimate of the enemy forces?"

Everyone in the briefing room hung on the radio, eagerly awaiting the response and descriptions from the reconnaissance squad.

"_Negative. Exact estimate of enemy forces impossible. I'd say several hundred."_

Lyons sighed and put his hand over his eyes. Damian noted that he was getting older by the day. He opened his mouth to ask the squad leader another question as the speakers blew out.

"_What... What the hell is that?"_

Everyone stared at each other.

"Stalker 1, what's going on?" Lyons asked nervously.

"_Do you see what I see, Lewis?"_

Damian heard another voice on the radio, just as surprised and horrified as that of the squad leader. In the background, he thought he could make out a rolling sound and mechanical noises.

"_Citadel," _said the squad leader's trembling voice._ "The enemy has a mobile base. Repeat, the enemy has a mobile command platform."_

A wave of murmurs and hiccups of amazement swept through the members of the Brotherhood present.

"Explain," said Lyons in a firm voice which immediately brought calm.

"_It looks like... A huge tracked platform, with several helipads, fuel reserves and a large satellite antenna, like the one at the relay station we attacked. I also see artillery and machine gun nests. Damn thing's at least three times the size of Prime!"_

Damian tried to imagine what this thing could look like, but he just couldn't. This new discovery, coupled with the Enclave's orbital strike power, made it seem invulnerable.

"Can you infiltrate this mobile base?" asked Lyons.

"_Negative. The entire base is surrounded by a force field. We can't get in,"_ said the voice on the radio after a brief silence. _"I'm changing my position. There is a ruined highway interchange up ahead, I'm moving there to get a better view."_

A wave of sigh ran through the assembly.

"_Solid copy Stalker 1. Contact us as soon as you have anything new on that mobile base. Citadel out."_

Lyons handed the microphone back to the radio operator and sighed. He ran his hand over his face and through his beard and turned to the congregation.

"Here we are at the beginning of the final chapter of this war," said the Elder. "The only possible outcome now is victory or annihilation."

He looked at the different people sitting in the briefing room one by one. Clearly, the Brotherhood and the Rangers had expected every possibility except this one.

"There's a good chance that this mobile base contains the control room for their satellite," Rothchild said. "If we destroy that base, we destroy the satellite."

"You heard what your squad said," Butcher intervened. "If that thing's bigger than your robot, you're going to need a hell lot of explosives to take it down."

"In any case, it's best to wait until we know more," said Reilly. "The more we know about this thing and this base, the better prepared we'll be for the assault."

Most of the Brotherhood brass nodded in silence.

"I'm afraid the only option we have is a frontal assault," Lyons sighed.

Silence fell on the briefing room. The Brotherhood had suffered losses in the assault on Project Purity, despite the help of Liberty Prime, and continued to lose many soldiers in the ruins or in skirmishes in the Enclave in various locations.

The various people gathered looked at each other, silent. Damian imagined that having to announce to the men and women of the Brotherhood that they would have to charge a huge mobile military base, with firepower capable of blowing them into tiny little pieces, while facing an entire army with air superiority, would be an arduous task.

Lyons went to his seat and bent over a map, showing Adams Air Force Base.

"Paladins," Lyons said. "Announce to your men that we will soon launch a direct assault on the enemy base. Tell them to stand by. You're dismissed."

The soldiers got up and left the room quietly. Lyons stood alone, staring into at the blank.

Damian leaned against a wall and sighed. He expected the attack on this base to be difficult without Prime's support, but now it was more like a mass suicide.

"_'The heroic charge of the Brotherhood of Steel and Reilly's Rangers, led by the Lone Wanderer, against the barbarian hordes of the Enclave was a failure. Tonight, the Capital Wasteland mourn their heroes, who died for our freedom.'_"

Damian was already imagining the eulogy that Three Dog would deliver, while the Enclave would proudly parade past the gates of the Citadel and the Jefferson Memorial.

Damian closed his eyes for a few seconds, trying to chase away these morbid thoughts, and when he opened them again, he saw two figures dressed in green in front of him.

"Hello, Ranger," said Reilly. "It's nice to see you again."

She shook Damian's hand and looked up and down at him.

"I hear you've been traveling a little since the last time."

"How do you know," Damian said, shaking Butcher's hand.

"Some of the guys in the Brotherhood have been telling us rumors. I just wanted to make sure you were fit and ready."

"I'm fine, thanks Reilly."

"By the way, I didn't get a chance to congratulate you on catching that officer the other day. So, congratulations."

\- Technically, you and Donovan were the ones who caught him, but thank you.

"Speaking of Donovan, he asked me to make sure you still had his map module."

Damian quickly went through his stuff and pulled out the little device. He showed it to Reilly, who reached out her hand. Damian gave it to her, and the young woman plugged it into another device. After a few seconds, she gave it back to Damian.

"Damn, you've been to every corner of this damn desert," she said, watching Damian put the module away. "You even overdid it a bit. I don't pay you enough every month."

"That's nice, but I don't need the money right now. You can give it to me some other time, I mean, if we get out of this suicide operation alive."

"Are you referring to that attack on Adams Air Force Base? Yeah, not easy. Butcher and I were just about to find a quiet place to think about it. Who knows, maybe we'll come up with a solution that'll keep us all out of hell for now."

"Mind if I join?" Damian asked.

"Of course," Butcher rejoiced. "One more person for brainstorming wouldn't hurt."

Damian and the Rangers searched for a place until they ran into Scribe Hood, who came out of Rothchild's office with a huge pile of papers under her arm. When she saw them, she gave them a shy smile.

"Good morning," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"We've come for the briefing," Butcher answered.

"The one on the base of the Enclave?"

"Yeah," said Reilly. "We were looking for a quiet place where we could think about a plan."

"Oh, in that case, come with me. Scribe Rothchild asked me to go over all the information we have on the air base again."

The young scribe led them to the Brotherhood living quarters. Between the dormitories and the officers' rooms, they settled in a small room, only equipped with a terminal, a table with a few chairs and an old sofa, next to a shelf full of books.

"This room was used as a place to relax. It is one of the few places where you can isolate yourself a little."

Hood pulled out a chair and sat down on it, spreading all the papers she had under her arm on the table in front of her. Damian and the Rangers took a wad of paper each.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Reilly asked.

"Well, I doubt this mobile base is something from before the war, so there's no point in looking for information on it. What we need to do is go through these files, retrieved from the Citadel's databases on the air base, from the time it was in operation."

"And then?" Damian asked.

"Then we pray to find something we can use to learn more about the site."

Damian woke up with a start and looked around, blinking several times. He had had a nightmare but could not remember what it was about.

They had now been going through the documents Hood had collected for over six hours, and several scribes, commissioned by Rothchild, had brought other files for them to study. These were almost exclusively staff reports or logistics fact sheets, as well as a few press clippings that mentioned the base and the Pentagon.

Because the Citadel's databases had suffered from the Great War and two centuries of lack of maintenance, most of its computer files were corrupted and the paper files that had not ended up in ashes when the bombs fell were just a matter of time. The files Hood recovered were transcripts, handwritten or printed, of everything the Brotherhood had been able to obtain from Adams Base.

On several occasions he had nosedived and was woken up by Reilly with a pat on the back of the head. He looked for Reilly and saw that she had been lying on the couch and sleeping, while Butcher had slumped down on the table and was snoring softly.

He turned his eyes to Hood. Her green eyes were reddened with fatigue. For a moment Damian thought she had fallen asleep with her eyes open, but he quickly heard her read in a low voice. Hood grabbed a bottle of Nuka-Cola and held it to her lips before she realized it was empty.

Without taking her eyes off her paper, she slid her hand across the table in search of a bottle of soda or a cup of coffee. Her hand hit a cup and she fumbled for the handle.

"This coffee must be cold," said Damian in a yawn as he watched the young woman.

"Never mind," replied the scribe in a small, tired voice after a slight hesitation.

"I also think Butcher squashed his cigarettes in it."

Hood let her head fall forward in a sigh of disappointment. Strangely, Damian thought the scribe's reaction was very cute. He shook his head before yawning and stretching. Tiredness clouded his mind. He needed to focus.

"You should get some rest," he said at last.

"Not until we find what we're looking for," replied the young woman, desperately looking for a pick-me-up so as not to fall asleep.

"If you keep searching in this state, you might miss something important."

The young woman scanned the table, looking for a cup of coffee or a Nuka-Cola, and did not seem to hear him. Seeing that the table was empty, the scribe sighed and confessed defeat. She turned her eyes to the couch and seeing that the place was already occupied by Reilly, she settled down in her chair and lost her gaze on the piles of papers scattered on the table. As soon as she had stopped moving, Damian could see her starting to fall asleep.

Damian collected the papers he was studying before he fell asleep and started reading again, but soon he felt his eyelids getting heavier.

"You too are going to miss something important," Hood said with a slight smile.

Damian closed his eyes for several seconds. When he opened them, he started reading again, but even with all the willpower in the world, he could not concentrate for more than two seconds on the damn paper.

"What are you reading?" asked the young scribe.

Damian looked at the title of the document.

"It's a report on the effectiveness of base security dating back to 1950. I think we can put it aside."

"Not sure. It might be important."

Damian sighed and let the paper fall on the table. The paper flew to Butcher who woke up yawning. He turned to Reilly, lying on the couch.

"Hey sleeping beauty, get up. We've still got files to go through."

Reilly got up and stretched. When his gaze fell on the pile of papers on the table, Damian felt the young woman's entire motivation being sucked into nothingness. Reilly tilted her head towards the sofa and seemed to consider going back to sleep before sitting down with the others.

"What have you found?" she asked, repressing a yawn.

"Nothing, I'm afraid," sighed Hood.

The young scribe collected several papers, sorted them, and began to study them again.

"How do you stay focused? We've been at this stuff for over three hours and I feel like I'm reading the same thing over and over again," Reilly asked.

"It's actually been more than six hours," Hood answered. "Normally I'm in charge of everything to do with Vault-Tec, but since we finally got our hands on the G.E.C.K., studying Vault-Tec technologies has been relegated to second or even third place for the Brotherhood, and I've been reassigned to other tasks. In addition, I am still unfit for the field with my leg injury."

Damian looked down at the young woman's leg. She was no longer walking with her cane, but the burn was still there.

"Don't you miss it? The field?" Reilly asked.

"Let's just say that, I may be a real bookworm, but I like to stick my nose out every once in a while, that is, if I can avoid getting shot every time."

Silence fell again and everyone started to read the papers scattered in front of them.

"There's nothing in these papers!" Reilly raged. "All we find are troop deployment reports, logistics requests!"

"Don't complain," Butcher said, "I've been given an entry and exit log from 2000 to 2077. Plus, the fact that the base housed the personal plane for the President of this damn country before the Great War."

Damian frowned.

"Can you show me that paper?" he asked the Ranger doctor.

Butcher looked curiously and began searching through the stack of files around him. He grabbed a long list on a very thin, yellowed paper that threatened to tear. Damian unfolded it and began to read it.

It was indeed a list of people who had made a trip to or from the base. On each line, a date and time was written down, followed by a surname and the first letter of the first name. The names were unknown to Damian, except for a few, which were those of former Presidents of the United States. Damian remembered that he had to learn the complete list from the War of Independence to the Great War.

"Uh? Why is this here?"

Damian raised his head and saw that Hood was looking at a paper, frowning.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing. It's just that someone put a report about the increasing Enclave patrols in parts of D.C. with the papers. Guess I have to put it back at its place before someone notices the mistake."

A small lightbulb lighted in Damian's head.

"Wait, what did you say?" he asked.

"That… I need to put this report back where it belongs…"

"No, before that, about the Enclave."

"Uh, they have been increasing their patrols and strike teams in various parts of the ruins."

"Can I see that report?"

Hood looked at him, not understanding why he had asked her that, but she eventually shrugged and handed him the paper.

The report was indeed about Enclave teams, spotted and engaged in various districts in downtown D.C., mainly around two places. Around the Capitol, and in Pennsylvania Avenue.

Damian looked at the names on the lists.

"I found it," he said.

"What?" asked the Rangers and the scribe.

"This list. It's a record of every person who's been on and off the base for over seventy years."

"Uh, yes, we know that, Butcher said it," Reilly said.

"I know those names," continued Damian, who seemed to be talking to himself.

"Are you serious?" Butcher asked, skeptical. "How?"

Without hearing him, Damian walked to the bookshelf and looked through them. He grabbed one of them and returned to the Rangers and Hood, who were glaring at each other with incomprehensible looks. Bending her head, the young scribe was able to read the cover of the book. It was a history book. Damian unfolded the list and began to flip through the large History book in front of him, alternating his gaze between the yellowed pages and the list.

"That must be it, he said. That has to be it."

"'_That'_ what?" Butcher asked.

Damian did not answer and kept sliding his finger over the list and seemed to compare it with what he was reading in the book.

"That's it," Damian said to himself.

"Now I understand how people feel when I go into my conjectures and hypotheses and talk to myself," Hood murmured.

Reilly got up from her chair. She put her hand in front of Damian's face and snapped her fingers. He jumped up and raised his head towards her.

"When you're done talking to yourself, it would be nice if you could tell us what you found out."

Damian looked at his companions in turn and plunged back into the list of names.

"Him, him, him, and him," he said, pointing successively to several names on the list. "They are former American Presidents. Their names and dates match perfectly. Check with the book and you will see."

"Okay, but what good does it do us to know that?" Butcher asked.

"It means that they went to Adams Air Force Base several times."

"I still don't see where you're going with this."

"I have to go see Lyons."

Damian hastily repacked the list and the report and left the room. The Rangers and the young scribe stared at each other and stood up to follow him. Damian walked quickly down the corridor and was deaf to all the questions of his companions.

"Well, are you going to tell us what's going on or not?" Reilly asked, getting angry.

"I know how to enter the base without being noticed."

"How?" asked the young scribe.

Damian did not answer. He continued walking to Lyons' office. The two sentries at the entrance watched Damian arrive and motioned for him to stop.

"I must see Elder Lyons now. It's very important."

The two guards looked at each other. Under the helmets of their power armor, it was impossible to read their emotions.

"Well?" Damian grew impatient.

"Elder Lyons is not at his office."

Damian turned around and headed to the briefing room. Inside, Tristan and some soldiers were bent over a map.

"Where's Lyons?" Damian asked.

Tristan looked at him, taken aback. It must have taken him too long to answer, because Damian, after scanning the room, walked away. The Paladin questioned Hood who shook her head and shrugged her shoulders to signify her ignorance.

There were only three places to find Lyons in the Citadel. His office, the briefing room, and the infirmary.

Damian entered the infirmary and saw the old Elder sitting beside Sarah's bed, still unconscious. He turned around and saw Damian come towards him and put the list on a table.

"What's going on?" asked the old man.

Lyons stared at him. He looked at the list and then his eyes turned to Damian. With his bags under his eyes, his pale complexion and his features hollowed out by lack of sleep, the young man looked out of shape and more like a sick man.

"Elder Lyons," Damian said, catching his breath. "I know how to get to Adams Base without arousing the attention of the Enclave."

"What do you mean?"

"I know how to get inside the base without being noticed."

"How?"

Damian pointed to the list and smiled.

"By taking the metro."

* * *

**I guess the Brotherhood discovered the presidential metro by invastigating the sewers under the White House and that they later inform the LW about it, but I thought it would make more sense to make Damian find the metro like this and not like "Hey, there is a metro from the White House to the Enclave base. Please go that way and kill them all."**

**I actually don't know if such a thing exists in D.C. and if it's like a urban legend or something eveybody know about. I assumed that in 2277, people would have other issue than knowing a presidential metro exists under their feets.**

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Until next time.**


	68. Chapter 68: Secondary network

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Today, we follow Damian as he and the Brotherhood come up with a plan about the mysterious presidential metro network.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

In the ten seconds after Damian's revelations, no one spoke. The infirmary was rocked by the regular beeping of Sarah's medical monitoring devices and by the young woman's breathing.

Lyons turned his eyes to Hood, who tucked her head into her shoulders and tried to make himself as small as possible. Reilly closed her eyes and sighed, and Butcher pursed his lips and looked away, finding sudden interest in a crack on the wall.

Damian kept staring at the old Elder. He looked at the two Rangers and the young scribe.

"What? Do you think I'm crazy, or that fatigue make me imagine things? I'm telling you, we can get to this base by metro."

"Franklin," said Reilly. "The metro tunnels in D.C., they're all collapsed. We can barely use it to get in or out of the ruins. It's a miracle we can get between stations without having to make a detour through the maintenance tunnels or the surface."

"I'm not talking about this metro, I'm talking about a secondary network."

"What?"

Damian did not answer and turned to the old man.

"Elder Lyons, I'm sure that there is a quick and discreet way to get from D.C. to Adams Base."

Lyons looked at the Rangers and the scribe, then turned to Damian.

"Please continue."

"Butcher found this list of names in the archives that Hood was supposed to analyze. When I looked through it, I found that some of the names matched those of former US Presidents from the early 2000s to April 2077. The dates and the names match. Just check in a history book with the dates of their terms of office. And I'm sure these other names, if you dig a little deeper, are former members of the government or senior military officers.

Damian paused and looked at his audience. He then pointed to the report about the Enclave patrols.

"Someone has mistakenly put this report among the documents, Scribe Hood had to analyze. It's a report about Enclave activity in the ruins, especially around two places. The Capitol and Pennsylvania Avenue."

"What's your point?" Lyons asked.

"I think the Enclave was around these two places for a good reason, something more important than harassing your men in the ruins."

Damian tapped the list with his finger.

"Which is?"

"Your patrols have been canvassing the ruins of D.C., haven't they? You too, Reilly. Then you must have realized that most of the main roads in and around D.C. are impassable because of the endless lines of cars. Do you really imagine that the most influential men in this country drove to this base? Can you imagine?"

Of course, no one, including Damian, could imagine what a car trip would be like back in the days before the Great War.

"Butcher also found a piece of paper, saying that Adams base housed a hangar specially reserved for the plane of the President of the United States. Imagine, on October 23, 2077, when sirens began to scream all over the country, when people rushed outside, to escape, or to make sure it was just another alert exercise, imagine the long line of cars of people wanting to flee the city, in addition to the existing line of trucks, buses, cars. Can you really see the most powerful man in this country, taking a car, getting stuck in that endless line of vehicles, bumper to bumper, knowing that in a few minutes he was going to end up in a pile of ash by a hundred nuclear warheads?"

Lyons was beginning to show interest in Damian's speech. The two Rangers and Hood were also listening intently.

"The pre-war government probably built a bunch of secret sites and compounds. Raven Rock is proof of that."

"So, you're saying there's a secondary network of metro tunnels under the city that only the pre-war authorities knew about and could use?"

"I don't know if it was as secret as a bunker lost in the mountains, but I'm sure that the American government used something like that, to get from point A to point B quickly. And if the Enclave does claim to be the remnants of the pre-war government, then the President of the day must have used this network to get out of D.C. without drawing attention to himself and to a secure site where he and his cabinet could continue to pull the strings while the world ran to its doom."

Damian looked at Lyons, the Rangers and Hood with a sly smile on his face.

"I think that these metro network goes from D.C. to Adams and that these Enclave patrols were dispatched to secure the entrances."

Lyons seemed pensive for a few seconds.

"Scribe Hood," he said, scratching his chin with a preoccupied look. "Can you look into that please?"

"Yes, Elder."

"What you just said is plausible," said Lyons as the young scribe left the room. "But if it was, how come there isn't a similar network for the Citadel?"

"I don't know, but instead of wasting time searching, we should go to where this tunnel network passes. Under the White House and the Capitol."

"That, my friend, is gonna be tricky."

Damian turned to Butcher. He and Reilly looked serious.

"What, what's the problem?"

"The problem is that the White House, well, it doesn't exist anymore," replied the Ranger doctor. "Now, instead, you just have a radioactive crater. As for the Capitol, it's still controlled by Super Mutants and the Talon Company surround the area.

Damian was about to speak when Lyons cleared his throat, bringing silence to the infirmary.

"Scribe Hood will conduct all the necessary research, in the meantime, I want the three of you to come with me to the briefing room."

The two Rangers nodded and left the clinic. Damian followed them and took a quick look over his shoulder. The old Elder was stroking his daughter's head. He sighed, put a kiss on her forehead and walked away to the exit.

"How is Sarah?" ventured to ask Damian.

"Her condition remains unchanged. Stable, but unchanged."

Lyons went ahead and Damian met him in the briefing room. A few minutes later, all the people from the previous briefing were assembled. Lyons stood up, cleared his throat to get everyone's attention, and turned to Damian.

"Go ahead," he said solemnly.

Damian got up from his chair and cleared his throat to give himself some composure.

"Well, uh, I, at last, we, the Rangers, Scribe Hood and I, have found a discreet and quick way into Adams Air Force Base."

He looked at his audience who listened intently and continued.

"When we sifted through the information on the Citadel at Adams Air Force Base, we discovered that it was used by pre-war authorities to travel abroad for summits and meetings. We also learned that Enclave troops have been spotted several times around specifics places in D.C. In short, we think that there is a pre-war metro system that links the ruins of D.C. to the air base."

"Are you sure?" asked one of the Brotherhood officers.

"Well, I can't say that such a thing exists, but I can't imagine the leaders of this country going anywhere in D.C. or in restricted military locations, taking a car.

"And if such an underground network exists," asked one of the troopers. "Where is it?"

Damian glanced briefly at Lyons and then at the Rangers. He turned his eyes to an old map of D.C. that Rothchild had brought and, after searching for a few seconds, pointed to a specific point in the ruins.

"It should be right here, and here."

"Are you sure?" asked one of the officers. The White House? Right in the middle of Pennsylvania Avenue, the worst hit spot in this damn city after the Mall."

The members of the Brotherhood looked at each other for a brief moment.

"Is there no other entrance?" asked one of the Brotherhood soldiers. I mean, the White House is… Not existing, unlike the Capitol."

"Yeah, but it's crawling with Super Mutants," Reilly replied. And I doubt they'll be happy to see us if we bring them an eviction notice. And I'm not talking about the Talon Company, who camp around it like an army and launch waves of assault to dislodge those ugly bastards. The White House may be a crater, but it's still less risky than an assault on a stronghold of Super Mutant.

"Super Mutants are no problem for us," said the soldier. "We'll just have to find a way to get past this group of mercenaries."

"You can forget it," Butcher said. "The Talons will never let you through, and if they do, expect to have to part with a bundle of money or part of your arsenal. And as for Super Mutants, we've heard rumors that there's a Behemoth in the dome of the Capitol, and if so, he'll be accompanied by a bunch of his little buddies."

Damian recalled his two encounters with one of these titans. The first one at Galaxy News Radio nearly crushed him with Sarah and the Pride, while the second one had proved to be a valuable ally when he had wreaked havoc at Evergreen Mills. The idea that most Super Mutants would end up looking like these abominations was terrifying. The number of Super Mutants in the ruins was unknown, but it was impossible to take a step without encountering a trace of their presence or one of their patrols. How many of these giant monsters were hiding in the ruins was a question Damian hoped he would never have to answer.

"Well, there is a second problem," said a soldier. "If such a network exists, then the Enclave have probably secured it a long time ago."

Everyone turned to Lyons. The final decision was his, and everyone waited with apprehension for his reaction.

"Elder?" said Hood, holding a file in her hand.

Lyons invited him to nod his head.

"You asked me to look into this secondary network, and I may have found something."

She put the file on the table and opened it, turning a sheet over to Lyons.

"There's a sewer and a tunnel near the hotel our men use as an outpost in Pennsylvania Avenue at White House Plaza. It could be an access to that famous government metro system."

Lyons turned to one of the members of the Brotherhood, presumably the one in charge of the Pennsylvania Avenue troops.

"That is correct, Sir," replied the officer. We have not been able to explore the whole place, mainly because of the incessant mutant attacks, and skirmishes with Enclaves troops but there is indeed a tunnel which my men are occupying at the moment. We've posted sentries there in case the Uglies want to flank us."

"Ask your men to search the tunnel."

Lyons seemed to think for a few seconds, then turned to Damian.

"I want you to infiltrate the base of the Enclave via this metro. Contact us once you get to Pennsylvania Avenue. If this network exists, take it. We, on the other hand, will set a course for the base. Once you have infiltrated the enemy base, contact Paladin Tristan, and we will launch an assault on the base's outer defenses. This attack will be a diversionary tactic, designed to facilitate your progress through the enemy lines. You will then enter this mobile base and destroy it. In their previous transmission, Stalker 1 reported that the control tower was still active. Perhaps you'll find some useful information. Either way, we'll launch the assault on the base of the Enclave. If that metro reserved for the authorities proves to be a dead end, I want you to find a way to reach us for the assault.

He paused and his martial air disappeared to make way to a friendlier expression.

"You're going to have to act alone. All of our forces will be concentrated elsewhere, to make the diversion work, and hopefully break through the base's defenses and come to your aid."

"We're also going to give you the prototype weapon that the scribes have concocted for us with the Tesla Coil," said Tristan. "Think of it as a field test, and if it works, it will be more useful than a missile launcher against the Vertibird."

"But what about you? Wouldn't it be more useful to you? You're the one who's going to suffer their assaults, not me."

"Stalker 1 said the base was surrounded by a force field and several weapon emplacements. If we get close enough to them, there's a chance their pilots won't fire on us, risk killing their own men. Besides, we also have heavy weapons capable of keeping their aircraft at bay."

Damian could not find anything to contradict that. Lyons and his men were better strategists than he was, and they must have studied the situation from every angle on several occasions.

"Go to the laboratory," Lyons said. "Rothchild and his scribes will provide you with the weapon."

Rothchild got up and waited for Damian at the door of the briefing room. Damian took one last look at the Brotherhood members and the Rangers, then joined the scribe.

"Convincing Lyons of this undercover mission through the tunnel, which no one knew existed, was an arduous undertaking. Congratulations," Rothchild said when they were far enough away.

"That I succeeded won't do much good, especially if this tunnel doesn't exist or is completely blocked."

"I'm sure our men on Pennsylvania Avenue are searching that sewer we talked about."

"I hope they do."

They walked to the laboratory. At the center, Prime's maintenance platform was buzzing with activity. What was left of the robot's legs was lying there and several scribes were busy repairing them. At the back of the lab, on a table, was Liberty Prime's head, connected to cables and a terminal.

"We were able to retrieve part of Prime's body, as well as its head," said the scribe, placing his hand on the large steel head. "We're running a thorough diagnosis of his A.I. to hopefully restore it completely. It may take years before we can get it back up and running, but I know we will."

He moved to another table. On it, Damian saw what looked like a large cannon. In the center of the gray weapon, Damian could see a small energy core. The tip of the weapon looked like two rails mounted on top of each other.

"This is a Tesla cannon," Rothchild said proudly as he took the weapon in his hand. "It handles like a standard rocket launcher. We discovered that this kind of weapon was already in development before the Great War, however, it was never produced on a large scale. This version uses the Tesla Coil you recovered from Old Olney. It fires a high velocity beam of pure electrical energy with a wide enough range, so I wouldn't recommend using it in a confined space."

"This thing will allow me to destroy the Vertibird?"

"In theory, yes. We just don't know what effect the weapon will have on the aircrafts. It could range from destroying the flight instruments to exploding it."

Damian observed the weapon for a brief moment.

"What's wrong?" asked Rothchild.

"I'm just wondering how I'm going to go unnoticed with this on my back."

"Unfortunately, your undercover mission was not on the agenda when we prepared this prototype."

Rothchild grabbed a small fusion cell from the table, similar to the laser rifle, except it was red, and gave it to Damian.

"The Tesla cannon uses electron charge packs to fire, coupled with the energy already present in the coil. Just like a rocket launcher, the cannon will need to be recharged after each shot. Just insert the electron pack here. Then aim and fire."

Damian stowed as many of those electron packs as he could and grabbed the Tesla cannon. Rothchild gave him a strap for transportation. Damian placed the gun in his back and began to wonder if he could make it to the White House without breaking his back, between the weight of the gun and his gear.

"All I have to do now is wish you good luck," said Rothchild.

He presented his hand to Damian, who shook it.

"I want you to know that you've done a great deal for our Chapter and for the Wasteland. The Brotherhood is proud to count you among its members."

"Thank you. And thank you for your help, Scribe Rothchild."

Damian left the lab and the Citadel, cannon on his back, bag and radio on his ribs and rifle in his hand.

He had barely arrived at the heavy steel gate of the fortress when he was already sweaty and had a backache. He was tired from his adventure at Point Lookout, and the six hours he had spent going through the Brotherhood's files had not given him much rest. He looked at the ruins of D.C., covered by grey clouds.

His neck, shoulder and back muscles were sore. Damian would have loved to put the gun down, but he knew that if he did, he wouldn't find the courage or strength to take it back.

His gaze then turned to the ruins next to the Citadel, and to the ruins of the Arlington Library. Fawkes would surely be strong enough to carry the Tesla cannon in addition to his inseparable laser gatling, but Damian felt a little guilty about turning his companion into a mule.

He noticed that Reilly and Butcher were standing by the entrance to the Citadel, talking. The Ranger Commander noticed his presence and motioned for him to approach.

"So, you're going to be playing special force and infiltrate the bad guys?"

"With that big cannon on the back? Sure, Reilly. He's going to be perfect," Butcher laughed.

Reilly gave Damian a pat on the shoulder, almost bringing him down on himself.

"Butcher and I will go with you."

"Are you sure? You don't have to."

"I told you he'd give us his hero's speech," Butcher said, reaching out his hand, palm up to the sky, to Reilly.

The young woman sighed and poured a dozen caps into it.

"I'm no hero," Damian grumbled.

"Then stop trying to save the world," Reilly smiled. "Okay, less talking, more acting. Donovan and Brick are gathering gear at HQ and we'll meet them there."

"By the way, which way do you plan to get to the White House?" Damian asked.

Reilly massaged her lips and began to think. Chances were that there were several ways to get from the Citadel to Pennsylvania Avenue, but the question was which one would be the fastest and least dangerous.

"There are many choices. You can go through Anacostia and from Seward Square, you take the station that goes up to Pennsylvania. You can take this metro north of Jefferson Memorial and get to l'Enfant Plaza, then the Mall, and then the connection to Pennsylvania, but I wouldn't recommend you go through there unless you want to become a permanent resident in Underwolrd. Most of the tunnels that lead to L'Enfant are irradiated and only the Brotherhood ventures through them."

Damian did not immediately understand the hint of goulification.

"Otherwise," the Ranger continued. "You can take one of the maintenance tunnels and a sewer next to the Anchorage War Memorial, and follow it to Georgetown. Then you have to go to the surface and from there you have two possibilities. Either go to Foggy Bottom Station, and follow the tunnels to Metro Central, or go through the district to a transit station. Either way, we'll arrive close to our destination."

"And where are we least likely to run into Super Mutants or feral ghouls?" Damian asked.

"Well, unless your friends in red robes have given you something to move instantly, in addition to your new toy, we're not going to avoid it," sighed the Ranger commander.

Damian began to think silently.

"Go ahead," he said. "There's something I have to do first."

Reilly and Butcher looked at each other, intrigued.

"As you wish," Butcher answered. "We'll meet you at the Brotherhood outpost."

The two Rangers set off for the metro station. Damian went to the library, where Fawkes would still be. The Super Mutant was going to help him carry the cannon, but he could also be a great help if he was ever discovered on the base, or while crossing the metro.

The Super Mutant was always in the library, but this time he was reading an old book of foreign literature. When he saw Damian approaching, he closed his book and carefully placed it on the desk at the front desk.

"Are you ready to hit the road again?" Damian asked.

"I'll follow you wherever you ask me to go."

"Then let's go," Damian smiled.

He left the library, accompanied by the Super Mutant, who took the Tesla cannon on his shoulder, as if it were a simple empty bag.

"Where are we going?" asked the Super Mutant.

"Pennsylvania Avenue. From there, we should find a secret metro tunnel that will take us to the old air force base used by the Enclave."

"So, the time for the final battle has come."

"Looks like it. You, the Rangers and I will infiltrate the base through that tunnel. The Brotherhood, on the other hand, will launch a diversionary attack to make our task easier."

Damian explained the plan in detail to Fawkes, even if for the moment it was just a matter of getting into Adams' base and figuring out how to get into the mobile platform to destroy it.

"A very bold plan," commented the Super Mutant when Damian had finished talking.

"A plan based solely on the fact that this secondary metro system exists. Otherwise, we'll be good for a frontal assault, and without Liberty Prime, I'm afraid our chances of survival are nil."

The Super Mutant turned its head and looked down on the ruins of D.C.

"Have you decided on a route to our destination?"

Whichever way he decided to go, they were going to have to walk for a while. The closest route was through Georgetown, but Damian had heard it was a breeding ground for Super Mutants. Going through Anacostia would be longer, but with luck, the path would be safe after the Rangers passed by, at least Damian hoped so. The problem was that Anacostia was right across from Rivet City, and chances were that the city's security, as well as the merchants, travelers, and residents, would shoot Fawkes as soon as they saw him approaching, not to mention the fact that they would have to pass through the purifier's garrison.

"We'll go through Georgetown. Reilly told me how to do it. I don't like the idea, but it's less risky for you. If we get anywhere near Rivet City, well..."

"I understand," replied Fawkes.

"Then let's get on with it."

The entrance to the sewer was through a small service door at the foot of a large hotel. Damian had expected to find a network of tunnels like Olney's, but he and Fawkes arrived in old maintenance corridors. The place smelled particularly bad. A rancid smell was in the air and seemed to come from the walls and pipes. Damian covered his face with his bandanna. Fawkes did not seem bothered by the smell and just watched the tunnel while the young man got ready.

"Well, let's hope it's not a maze," Damian whispered.

He turned on his flashlight and pointed the beam in front of him. The hallway looked like every other maintenance corridor he had been through since leaving the Vault, except for the smell. Most of the tunnels had collapsed, forcing Damian and Fawkes to turn back several times.

The corridors were infested with rodents and cockroaches. The insects would run away as soon as the beam of the lamp was pointed at them, and the rats, sometimes as big as a small dog, would give Damian a defiant glance before running off to hide in a hole. Some of these specimens were larger, with orange or pink skin and looked more like a mole than a rat. Damian had already come across them in the metro and on the surface and had always feared their large incisors.

The presence of Fawkes meant that these mutant rodents didn't attack and were content to squeak at them and take refuge in a hole if the Super Mutant got a little too close.

The tunnels led them to a metro line. The air was more breathable, and Damian took off his mask to take a deep breath. A little further on, sandbags and construction lamps connected to a generator were installed on the track and projected a bright white light.

Damian and Fawkes exchanged a glance. Someone had set up in this tunnel and some mines were being laid between them and the fortifications. Quietly Damian approached and advanced slowly through the minefield, the advice Donovan had given him when they had gone to Minefield looping around in his head.

The Super Mutant followed Damian at a good distance, making sure to follow in his footsteps exactly. The spotlight made it difficult to see the mines and at any moment they expected to hear a click under their feet and then the explosion. Damian stepped over the sandbag fortification and waited for Fawkes to join him. On their left, a few steps led to a closed service door and Damian could hear voices on the other side.

Fawkes tapped gently on his shoulder and pointed to the other end of the tunnel. Another fortification had been erected, as well as a second minefield. Damian closed his eyes and sighed. This time the spotlight was in their backs, and Damian aimed flashlight at the ground, so he could see better once his shadow and the Super Mutant's larger shadow had covered the track.

They made their way through the minefield safely. Those who had set the explosives had done it a little too visibly, and Damian expected that another trap would be a little better concealed, but it was not the case. The inhabitants of this tunnel must have been more interested in protecting themselves from wild animals and relied on the blinding light of searchlights to destabilize intruders and make them walk straight into a mine.

The metro tunnel stretched for about 100 meters before it was blocked. Damian and Fawkes took a maintenance access to other rat-infested corridors, which fled as they approached.

The maintenance corridors led them to a metro station. The corridor, lined with ceramic, had suffered greatly from the bombing and the main access to the station was destroyed. Cold water stagnated on the ground up to the ankles and the rotten, bloated corpse of a rat floated on it. They walked down the hallway to the metal gate leading to the surface, which was wide open.

The metro exit was in a small square with burnt flower beds, broken telephone booths, destroyed shop windows and deserted café terraces. Small brick houses of different colors, concrete office buildings, and shop signs lined the streets with their usual carpet of car wrecks and bones. Behind them, a suspended highway had collapsed into a small canal, and in front of the metro entrance was a destroyed building.

Damian looked at the metro information board. They were in front of the entrance to Foggy Bottom Station, but it was impossible to get there through this metro exit. Damian looked at the line map on the sign. Metro Central was the next station on the line he was interested in. He had already crossed it to the next station, Freedom Street, and exited at Vernon Square when he had rescued the Rangers.

The great underground hub that was Metro Central was regularly the scene of skirmishes between the different factions occupying the ruins and Damian still remembered the mass grave he had discovered when he first set foot there. It had been so long since he had been there that it was impossible to know if the station was still deserted or if it was now the hideout of a group of Super Mutants or a band of Raiders.

Damian turned to Fawkes who was silently watching the surroundings, his laser gatling ready to fire and the Tesla cannon on his back.

"We're going to try to find another access to Pennsylvania Avenue. Reilly said something about a transit station on the other side of Georgetown."

Fawkes agreed by a silent nod and readjusted the strap of the cannon. Damian looked around. Many buildings had collapsed and made the streets impassable and the only way seemed to be through the canal. Damian approached the edge of the square and glanced down below. The canal was bordered by a small footpath, lampposts and a few benches. The path seemed to lead to another small square and a residential area.

"We're going to pass through here," Damian said, pointing to the canal and the promenade.

They found a small concrete staircase, not far from a rust-eaten metal bridge across the canal. The path ended with a metal arch and a plaque indicating the name of the canal and led to a square with another entrance for Foggy Bottom Station. The small, colorful brick houses, with their small gardens, were wedged between large office buildings and the highway.

Damian walked along one building to a small subdivision of four houses, framed and crossed by alleys. The road on which he and Fawkes were standing ended behind a large white brick hotel and judging by the destroyed train cars sticking out of the ground, there was direct access to the metro tracks.

They walked down the street, moving quickly and quietly, to a crossroads. There, they turned left and followed the street for a few meters before coming to a second crossroads. Damian flattened at the corner of a building and observed the area in front of him.

A metro exit was at the opposite corner of their position, built in a commercial building. On the right, the hotel and its ballet of vehicles stopped in front of the entrance. On the left, a car park full of vehicles and several bus stops. On the other side of the car park, a factory, with its three chimneys still intact.

"Fuck…" Damian swore in a low voice.

The parking lot was crawling with Super Mutants, accompanied by Centaurs, and on the roof of the factory, several mutants, equipped with long-range rifles, machineguns and rocket launchers, were watching the surroundings.

"Going through here seems impossible," said Fawkes as he watched his fellow mutates.

Damian looked at the entrance to the station. It was just on the other side of the crossroads. They could be there in seconds if they ran across the street.

The escalators that went underground called out to him. Once underground, he would just have to follow the long corridor and he would be on Pennsylvania Avenue. He was sure he could make it to the entrance, but if one of the Super Mutants spotted him, he would end up lying in the middle of the street, his body riddled with bullets. He looked back at the mutants again and watched the one with the rocket launcher.

Damian turned one last time towards the entrance of the station.

"Fuck," he hissed between his teeth.

He walked away from the corner of the building and turned back, Fawkes on his heels.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Until next time.**


	69. Chapter 69: The Avenue

**Hello everyone, hoe you are doing well.**

**Today, we follow Damian and Fawkes, as they cross the ruins of D.C. to meet Reilly's Rangers to the BOS White House outpost.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

Foggy Bottom was a metro station like any other. Ceramic corridors, strewn with dirt and debris. A large platform with newsstands, benches, garbage cans, built above a large central platform decorated with copper-colored tiles, twisted metal rails and rotten sleepers, was sinking into dark tunnels, where stopped trains were desperately waiting for their passengers, all resting under a huge concrete vault.

The mezzanine, with its information desk and four stationary escalators, served as a bivouac for a small group of Raiders, sitting on the ground around a meagre meal and lit by a small lantern. Upon noticing the presence of Damian and Fawkes, one of the Raiders had jumped on his gun and fired in their direction, missing his target by almost a meter. Fawkes had then activated his gatling and the group of Raiders was now just a pile of smoking bones, resting on a carpet of hot ashes.

Damian and Fawkes walked down the central platform and looked at the directions written above each tunnel. Lighted only by Damian's flashlight, they entered the only passable tunnel leading to Metro Central.

Damian walked on the small ledge between the wall and the track, where the tunnel lighting, which had been permanently turned off, was located. Fawkes walked in the middle of the track, his long strides and big feet landing on a sleeper each time. The tunnel was deserted except for rats and Radroaches. Damian had ended up walking on the track himself, after banging his ankles several times against a pipe or an emergency light. Moving from one sleeper to the other was a complicated exercise and Damian quickly returned to the ledge, preferring to bump into a pipe and light bulb rather than twist his ankle while tripping over the track.

Fawkes was constantly looking behind them to make sure they were not being followed. Possible pursuers would be spotted quickly by the glow of their flashlights, but the Super Mutant was worried about being followed by a creature living in the tunnels or by its fellow creatures on the surface, attracted by the shots and screams of the Raiders.

Super Mutants could not see in total darkness, but they could see better than a human, so Fawkes regularly glanced behind them without needing a flashlight.

Damian readjusted the strap of his rifle on his shoulder and continued to point the barrel towards the wide-open muzzle of the tunnel. He swept the tunnel with the beam of his flashlight. The spot of light licked the walls and ceiling, where a myriad of cables and pipes ran, then turned towards the tunnel and disappeared after about ten meters, swallowed by darkness.

The air in the tunnels was fresh, much cooler than on the surface. Damian suddenly wondered why the government had not chosen to turn the metro tunnels and stations into giant bomb shelters, instead of building the Vault-Tec fallout shelters from scratch. The answer came to him when he realized that the Vaults were buried deeper underground and that an isolated bunker was a much better playground for Vault-Tec's twisted scientists than an underground train system that was in danger of collapsing as soon as the nuclear war began. The fact that no one but a few Raiders had set up shop in the tunnels or deserted stations was also due to the fact that they were infested with feral ghouls or Super Mutants and that the only barrier with the surface was a simple rusty grate used to close the station.

They finally reached Metro Central. Damian turned off his flashlight and let his eyes get used to the darkness. During this short time, he turned his ear towards the station to pick up any sounds that might indicate the presence of mutants or Raiders. He approached the section of the tunnel entering the station as quietly as possible and listened.

Metro Central was the station where the White Line and the Red Line crossed. Damian and Fawkes were on the old White Line, which ran through the city from East to West and connected Virginia to Maryland. Below them were the platforms and tracks of the Red Line, which connected the North and South of the Capital Wasteland.

The track on which Damian and Fawkes were standing, passed under the platform leading to the exit corridors and was clear, while the track to their right was obstructed by a train car that encroached on the central platform.

The station was silent. There was no sound of footsteps, campfires or voices. Only the slight hissing of the wind rustling through a large hole in the vault, through which a vehicle had fallen into the station, provided the only source of light. Damian listened for a while but could hear nothing but the wind.

Damian pointed to the escalator to the platform and Fawkes nodded. He turned his flashlight back on and began to light up the interior of the station. The concrete pillars were crumbling more and more, and the vault was threatening to give way in places. The platform was littered with bones half buried in dust and debris and skeletons still whole. The walls of the station, as well as the train cars, were strewn with bullet and laser impacts, and in places there were dried bloodstains from the battle that had taken place shortly before Damian arrived at the station about a month earlier.

Damian climbed onto the platform and glanced down the escalator to his right. Nothing. The bottom of the metal staircase was deserted. He walked to the platform and climbed up the escalator steps, which creaked under his weight. When he reached the top, he came across more skeletons. He lit up the rest of the platform. It was empty, if one removed the usual carpet of bones, faithful to the remains of the city of D.C.

Damian directed the beam of his lamp towards the corridor leading to the exit. Empty. He moved to the opposite edge of the platform and looked at the platform, which was also empty. He returned to the escalator and signaled Fawkes to join him. The Super Mutant climbed up the escalator, as quietly as its size and weight would allow.

Without really knowing why, Damian sensed that something was wrong with the station. He did not feel spied on as he had been in the Point Lookout swamps, and did not feel any presence, but he had a strange feeling. Damian took a quick look at Fawkes, who must have felt the same way, although it was quite complicated to decipher the Super Mutant's feelings and facial expression.

He glanced at the platform again and stopped. He had just figured out why he felt so uncomfortable. The corpses he had seen in the station the first time, had just died. Some of the skeletons he had come across were fresh. It took a minimum of about three weeks for a corpse to completely decompose and return to a bone condition. The quick calculation he made in his head did not match. Damian had come to Metro Central the day after he left the Vault. Taking into account his two weeks in a coma, the three days in Pitt, the day spent in the Anchorage simulation, and the days spent in the Wastes, Point Lookout, or on the alien ship, it was just over three weeks.

For a body to completely decompose into a skeletal state, it took a minimum of three weeks in a temperate environment. The temperature in the metro stations was a little lower than on the surface. This factor should have slowed down the decomposition of corpses, yet the skeletons there were perfectly decomposed, like those of the victims of the Great War.

Something had eaten those bodies and that something probably still had to live in the station.

Damian walked towards the corridor. Something grabbed him by the ankle and dropped him in a growl. He looked over his shoulder and saw a gaunt, white hand clutching his ankle. The hand was at the end of an arm, which although thin had great strength. At the end of that arm was the bust of a feral ghoul, half buried under a pile of debris.

The ghoul pushed a rasping rail that seemed to resonate throughout the station and pulled Damian towards it. The ghoul grabbed Damian again and he kicked him in the face. An unpleasant creak indicated that he had most likely just broken the creature's jaw. The ghoul let go and Damian crawled to safety while Fawkes crushed its head with his foot.

The hissing and cracking of bones and brains was followed by a silence, quickly broken by a series of rales and grunts that seemed to come from all over the station.

Damian returned to the platform and lit up the platform and the tracks. Dozens of feral ghouls were pouring onto the platform from the train cars, coming out of the tunnels and up the escalators leading to the Red Line.

The ghouls swung their heads abruptly in all directions. Several of them noticed Damian's presence and rushed up the platform escalators to reach him. With impressive liveliness, they climbed the metal stairs screaming, without taking their eyes off Damian. Damian advanced to the escalator and as soon as the first ghoul reached the top, he kicked it in the stomach. The ghoul fell backwards, hurtling down the escalator and dragging its fellow ghouls with him. The ghouls climbed up a second escalator or began to trample those on the ground.

"Shit! Shit!" Damian swore.

He raised his weapon and fired at the ghouls on the platform and rushed to the corridor. Fawkes raised his gatling and sent a volley of laser discharges at the ghouls, saving them some time. The Super Mutant followed in Damian's footsteps, while behind them, more ghouls poured into the station.

The beam from Damian's lamp swayed from wall to wall, floor to ceiling, and intermittently lit up the corridor in front of him. He jumped over the turnstiles, Fawkes on his heels.

Other ghouls in the corridor tried to crawl out from under a pile of rubble. Damian stepped on one of them and felt the creature's skull break under his foot.

The beam from his lamp caught two skeletal figures coming out of a door leading to a toilet. With flabby white skin, shreds of clothing that once belonged to a woman, glassy eyes, a gaunt body with exposed ribs, the two ghouls pounced on the young man and his companion Super Mutant.

Damian avoided the first ghoul, which fell against a Nuka-Cola dispenser. Fawkes slammed his fist into the face of the second ghoul, making it collapse to the ground.

The corridor branched off to the right. Damian took the opportunity to look over his shoulder. The corridor behind him was dark, and he could not tell how many ghouls were chasing him, but he could clearly hear them.

The exit of the station was about thirty meters in front of them. Two silhouettes dressed in power armor stood next to the station gate. They were shining a powerful white light towards the corridor. When they saw Damian and Fawkes coming and the ghouls on their heels, they waved at them.

"Knight! This way, quickly!"

Damian quickened the pace. Fawkes ran beside him, the Tesla cannon swinging to the rhythm of his run. They passed several piles of collapsed debris from the ceiling, some of which held a ghoul trying to catch them as they passed within range.

They walked past the information and ticket booth. A ghoul crawled out of a pile of gravel and raised its hand to grab Damian. He jumped to avoid the creature's gaunt arms. The ghoul ran after him.

One of the Brotherhood soldiers armed a flamethrower and pointed it toward the corridor.

"Wait!" Damian cried.

"Hurry!" cried the soldier.

The flamethrower soldier went past the gate and as soon as Damian and Fawkes passed him, he fired his weapon, throwing a long tongue of fire into the corridor. The ghouls cried out in pain and immediately fell silent, collapsing to the ground in a pile of charred flesh.

"That's it! Get back!" said his companion.

The soldier with the flamethrower retreated back to the gate, while sweeping the corridor with the flames. He stopped shooting when he passed the gate and walked away towards the escalators. Damian and the second soldier closed the gate, trapping the ghouls in the station.

Some of them threw themselves onto the gate and Fawkes fired a few bursts of his laser gatling at them to scare them away. The surviving ghouls went back inside the station and all was silent again.

Damian caught his breath and thanked the two soldiers with a nod. The one with the flamethrower turned to his companion.

"It's okay Vic, you can call the outpost. We got them."

The one called Vic nodded and started talking into the built-in radio in his helmet. The second soldier took off his helmet. It was a woman, blonde, in her thirties, with blue eyes and a scar on her left cheek.

"I'm Knight Hammond, attached to the 3rd Battalion, Pennsylvania Avenue. We've been expecting you."

"Glad to see you," Damian said as he glanced at the gate and the tunnel, from which escaped a burning smell, and occasionally a rattle, coming from the depths of the station.

"The Citadel has informed us of the situation," Hammond continued. "We searched the sewers around the White House and found what might look like an access to a bunker. We haven't been able to make any further progress. Mutants and just after them, some Enclave troopers showed up and launched an attack and we had to return to the surface in an emergency."

Damian had now the certitude that there was something at the White House that interested the Enclave.

While they were talking, they climbed up the escalators to the street. The entrance to the station was indicated by the usual broken canopy. It was larger, like the station under their feet, and a set of three escalators and concrete stairs, provided access to the station.

Three nets filled with pieces of flesh and bones, hanging from chains, hung over their heads, and swayed slowly, a buzzing cloud of flies gathering around them. At the top of the escalators, corpses of Super Mutants were lying on the large square surrounding the metro entrance.

The square was surrounded by several large buildings, mainly shopping malls, apartments and offices. Behind the metro station, an old Diner in ruins, with other Super Mutant corpses. Small telephone booths were located next to benches or beds of dead trees, as well as several skeletons.

A large avenue with an endless line of cars and buses passed in front of the square and headed towards the Capitol on the left and the Brotherhood outpost on the right.

Damian, Fawkes, and the two soldiers marched down the wide avenue, their progress made difficult by pieces of buildings, car wrecks, and collapsed scaffolding.

"The Frankensteins occupy a large part of the area, and launch attacks against our outpost almost every day, sometimes several times in the same day," said Hammond. "The ones in Metro Central Square were probably part of the reinforcements of those who attacked us. The only god thing, is that they attacked most of the Enclave patrols in the area, so when they finally reach us, we can easily repel them."

"Did you find the metro tunnel?

"Not exactly," Hammond replied. "We stumbled upon what may have been a bunker reserved for pre-war authorities, but we didn't have time to explore it. Enclave guys have launched an assault on our position, and we had to go back up to help our people. We believe what you're looking for is in that bunker."

Damian nodded silently and looked down the avenue and the buildings that lined it.

The buildings, several stories high, with broken windows, were all partly destroyed and some of their façades had collapsed into the street. Some of the buildings had these strange bronze statues, representing the bust of a man in costume. Architectural styles were mixed on the same street. Large steel and brick towers, white stone buildings with rotundas, or rounded corners blending with large bay windows and balconies.

"Your friends from the Rangers are here," Hammond continued. "They arrived just as we were being attacked. They're waiting for you."

The Knight pointed to a pile of rubble, one floor high. Damian guessed that was the way through which Reilly and her men had come.

"They were the ones who killed the Frankensteins in the square. We owe them a beer. They saved our asses by taking out the mutants on the other side. When we realized you weren't with them, we posted men at every metro entrance in the neighborhood and waited for you to arrive. We expected you to go the same way they did, not through Metro Central.

"The Anacostia connection was a little far from the Citadel, and with Fawkes, I was afraid the whole of Rivet City would shoot at us."

The two Brotherhood soldiers took a quick look at the Super Mutant. Damian sensed that they were not comfortable.

"We went through Georgetown, but we couldn't get through by the surface. We had to go through Foggy Bottom and Metro Central."

"I'm not surprised," Hammond commented. "Georgetown is crawling with mutants. Our patrols hardly ever go there."

The avenue they were standing on was about a mile long. Damian could not remember ever having travelled that far through the ruins without having to pass through a ruined building or go through a metro tunnel. For him, it was the longest avenue in the world.

At the end, Damian could make out a mast with a torn and punctured Brotherhood of Steel flag on it. Next to it was a strange stone fountain with four statues, representing female figures, wearing a strange helmet and a long dress, giving them the appearance of a mythological goddess. Each of the statues held a large bowl in their hands. On top of the fountain, the Brotherhood had installed a military laser turret.

They stood on a large crossroads. On the right, Damian could see a stone column with four of these busts of men in costume and a metro exit, while on the left, the street was blocked by a collapsed building.

Damian felt a warm liquid on his cheek. At the same time, a detonation sounded in the avenue. He turned and saw Knight Hammond fall to the ground, a trickle of blood coming out of her neck.

"Sniper! Get down on the ground!"

Private Vic, Damian and Fawkes dove behind the wrecked cars. A second shot rang out and a bullet slammed into a body next to Fawkes.

"Did you see where that came from?" Damian shouted.

"How's Hammond?" Vic asked.

Damian turned his head towards her. The Knight was lying on his side. A thick stream of blood was flowing from a large hole in her throat. She tried to press her hand against the wound.

"Don't move, Hammond!" Vic shouted. "We're coming to get you!"

Damian flattened further to the ground, when another bullet slammed over him. It was impossible for them to move. He could squeeze through car wrecks, but then he would be in the sniper's sights.

"Franklin? You there?"

Reilly's voice came from across the avenue.

"Yeah! You see the shooter?"

"No! That son of a bitch is probably hiding in one of the buildings across the street!"

Damian looked at Hammond again. The bullet had ripped her throat out. Blood was coming out of the exit wound and out of her mouth and nose. With every breath she took in and out, the blood flowed, and small bubbles formed at the corner of her lips and on the wound.

Another shot rang out.

"Don't move and keep your head down!" shouted Reilly.

"Hammond!" Vic cried. "Hammond's been hit!"

"Keep your head down!" Reilly repeated.

Damian crawled up against the car and approached Hammond. The woman was suffocating. Her windpipe was torn, and she could not breathe. Powerless, Damian looked at her as she raised her hand to him. Even if he had been able to reach her, he would have been unable to move her, let alone heal her. Another shot was fired, and Damian heard the second soldier of the Brotherhood swear. By the time he looked back at Hammond, she was dead, choked with her own blood.

A new gunshot sounded and the bullet ricocheted near Damian's head. A second later, he heard the buzzing of a machinegun coming from the Brotherhood outpost and the sound of bullet flying over his head and hitting a wall.

A detonation sounded and Damian heard a whistle and felt heat above him. An explosion sounded, followed by several other, across the avenue. A few seconds later, he heard Reilly's voice.

"Franklin? You still there?"

"Yes! I'm still here!"

"The shooter's dead! You're clear to exit."

Damian and Fawkes got up slowly, staring nervously at the windows of the buildings. Near Metro Central Square, the corner of a building had been hit by a rocket and some smoke was billowing from the point of impact.

Vic approached Hammond and looked at her for a few moments before sighing and clenching his fist. Fawkes approached in turn and helped the soldier carry his companion.

The outpost of the Brotherhood was in a small square, with the fountain that Damian had seen earlier in the center. Directly overlooking the square, a ruined hotel served as their camp. The square was protected by rows of sandbags and car wrecks.

Behind the square, Damian saw a large wrought-iron gate, eaten away by rust. The Brotherhood had welded sheet metal plates to hide the view and had put up signs indicating a radioactive danger. Behind the gate was a large crater. Marble columns were lying against the gate and Damian guessed that it was all what remained of the White House. A small section of street separated the gate from the square right next to the hotel, and Damian noticed a sign for a metro exit.

Two soldiers took Hammond's body inside the hotel and Vic entered a khaki tent set up next door.

"You good?" Reilly asked as she approached Damian and Fawkes.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"The bastard was hiding in a building," commented the Ranger commander. "The Brotherhood guys are going to have to set traps in the buildings to prevent that from happening again."

A soldier in power armor approached them.

"I'm Paladin Sobels," he introduced himself. "Glad to see you in one piece, Knight, but I wish I could have welcomed you to the outpost under better conditions."

"My condolences for Hammond."

"Thank you. We'll see to it that she's returned to the Citadel, and I hope that will make some of the senior staff react to our situation here. Between all the muties and the increasing Enclave attacks, we'll soon be forced to withdraw from Pennsylvania."

Damian noticed the frustration in the Paladin's voice. These men must have felt like they were on their own, lost in the middle of these ruins, suffering daily from the attacks.

"Piers," exclaimed the Paladin. "Go with your men and set traps in the buildings along the road and the Metro Central exit. Rusty, make me an inventory of the rockets we have left. If those bastards manage to pass by the traps, I want to be able to dislodge them, even if it means levelling the whole fucking neighborhood. And stay alert. Those bastards will probably be here any minute."

Two soldiers stood at attention and walked to the tent and barked some orders.

"Do you mind if I use my radio?" Damian asked.

Sobels nodded. Damian grabbed his radio and turned it on to the frequency of Paladin Tristan.

"Paladin Tristan, do you copy?"

_"Solid copy. What's your status?"_

"I've reached the Pennsylvania outpost."

_"Copy that. Contact us when you reach the base. Pride actual, out_."

Damian folded up the radio antenna and hung it on his hip. Sobels motioned for him to follow him. He led them to the Northwest corner of the square. There, the Brotherhood had marked out a large manhole cover.

"That leads to a sewer system. It is used to store some material, and there are always two sentries inside. My men did a little digging and came across what looks like a bunker."

Sobels motioned to one of his men who was guarding the plaque to lift it up. A ladder went underground to a wide tunnel dimly lit by a few lanterns. The hole was just big enough for Fawkes to get through.

"You should get down there before the Super Mutants or the Enclave launch another attack. Good luck."

Damian thanked the Paladin as he returned to his men.

Reilly was the first to go down, followed by Donovan, Butcher and Brick. Fawkes had a little more trouble getting through the opening and Damian went down last. Sobels' soldier closed the plate behind him.

The sewage system looked exactly like Olney's and Damian hoped inside not to run into a nest of Deathclaws.

The Rangers were attaching flashlights to the barrels of their weapons or to their helmets. They all had a large backpack with them, containing ammunition and perhaps spare weapons, had swapped their green clothes, matching their armor, for darker shades and Brick had painted her face with black ink.

Two men from the Brotherhood stood guard a little farther away, near a service door. The tunnel went down to a fork, where there was the wreckage of a car. Above it a lamp was hanging with half a skeleton stuck in the grid protecting the bulb.

"How did that one end up there?" Donovan asked, holding back a smile in the face of this absurd vision.

"What I'd like to know is how they got a car in here," Butcher said.

The two guards signaled them to approach.

"Knight. Over here. The bunker is a little further on."

They led them through a maze of maintenance corridors, then to a large metal security gate. On the door, Damian recognized the seal of the presidency of the United States. A large eagle holding an olive branch and arrows in its claws, covered with a coat of arms in the colors of the American flag. Above, thirteen white stars on a blue background, in a representation of the sun surrounded by clouds. In its beak, the eagle held a banner, on which was written the motto in Latin _"E Pluribus Unum"_.

"That's it," said Damian. "That's the seal of the President of the United States on that door. We must be right under the White House."

"Well, let's just hope the metro tunnel is intact and passable," said Reilly.

"You didn't go any further?" Damian asked the two sentries.

"No. Between the time we got the message from the Citadel and the time we were attacked, that's all we could find. We don't know what's behind it, or even if that door will open."

Damian was watching the door. It seemed to split in two. He looked for a lock to pick but could not find one.

"It looks like a sliding door, like an elevator."

He tried to open it, but immediately gave up.

"The damn thing's stuck."

"Let me try," said Fawkes.

Damian gave way to him and watched the Super Mutant grab the door and force it open. He managed to spread the two parts a few inches apart.

"I'm sorry. It's impossible for me to open it," Fawkes apologized.

"Couldn't we blow it up? suggested one of the Brotherhood soldiers.

"Yeah, and when we have to explain to Sobels why we attracted the whole place with a big boom, you'll be the one who'll do it," replied his companion in a sarcastic tone.

"We'll use this instead."

Everyone turned to Reilly. The young woman was crouching in front of her backpack and searching inside. She grabbed a crowbar and gave it to Fawkes.

"There you go, big boy. Try with this."

Fawkes stuck the crowbar in the door and pulled with all his might. The sliding doors creaked and opened slowly. The two Brotherhood soldiers pushed the door wide open and Donovan grabbed two large metal bars and wedged them at the top and bottom to keep it open.

Damian shone his flashlight into the opening. A room, resembling the entrance to a bunker, with a small security station, consisting of a table, a telephone, a safe and a locker.

He entered through the opening and lit the room until he found a corridor. Behind him, Reilly and her Rangers and Fawkes entered in turn.

Damian put his Chinese assault rifle on his back and opened his bag and took out the silenced and scope R91 he had found in Pitt.

He turned to the two Brotherhood soldiers.

"You think you can hold that door open?"

One of the soldiers looked at the two metal bars then nodded silently.

"We'll let Paladin Sobels know you've entered, and we'll hold that door. We just have to hope that the mutants on the surface leave us alone while we do."

"Good luck," said the second soldier.

Damian nodded silently and joined the Rangers who were already advancing down the corridor. They advanced silently by the light of their flashlights. Donovan and Brick had taken the lead. Five yards behind them Damian and Butcher followed them with Fawkes and, another five yards behind, Reilly closed the march.

The bunker corridor gave way to marble walls and luxurious tiling. They entered a lobby. On the right wall were two doors for elevators, each framed by a marble saddle with the remains of statuettes of former US Presidents. Opposite the elevators, a glass screen opened onto an empty reception desk. Waiting lines with their small gold metal posts were scattered throughout the lobby.

A double door led out of the lobby into a corridor leading to the office. Donovan and Brick stood by the door.

"There's a staircase going down," Brick said.

Butcher entered the office and began a quick search. Damian illuminated an escape plan on the wall.

"We should be right under the White House. Judging by the plan, if we go down the stairs, we should hit the metro."

"Shh!"

Damian and the others turned to Donovan. Reilly approached him and lit the hallway in front of them and the first steps of the stairs.

"What's wrong, Donovan?"

"Listen."

Reilly looked down the stairs and listened.

"I can't hear anything."

"That's what's bothering me," replied the mercenary. "I don't like places that are too quiet."

"Let's keep moving. The radiation level here is zero, but that doesn't mean we won't run into the President of Ghouls. Donovan, with me on point."

Damian pondered his experience in Metro Central, infested with feral ghouls. He doubted that feral could live in these tunnels and was more concerned about the pre-war security system or Enclave patrols.

There were no light sources except their flashlights, and the small fluorescent tubes that the Rangers left every ten meters to mark their path in case of a hasty retreat. The terminals on the reception desk were not working and the elevators were out of order. All power was out, which, given the state of the White House above their heads, was understandable. However, it was a good bet that the security system would still be active, and was running on a secondary power source, such as a fusion generator, capable of powering a small place for centuries.

The staircase turned on itself and led to a small corridor, decorated with statues of former Presidents and American flags. At the end, a double door was opened, leading to a large hall.

Donovan and Reilly stood still. The Ranger commander raised her fist and signaled to the others to stop. Each took shelter behind a statue. A small rolling noise came from the next room. Donovan grabbed a pulse grenade from his belt and prepared to throw it.

The massive shape of a Sentry bot appeared in the beams of the flashlights. The machine of death turned towards them and the visor on his head lit up red. The robot raised its weapon just as Donovan launched his pulse grenade. The explosive stopped just below the robot and exploded, releasing a large electric ball that fried the machine's circuitry.

When deactivated, the Sentry bot lowered its arms in a metallic squeak and its red visor went off. The infiltration group stood still, listening carefully. No sound could reach them. Donovan and Reilly entered the room where the robot was.

"Clear," murmured Reilly

The rest of the group entered. To their right, a train track and platform ran through a tunnel for several meters before it collapsed. A long line of electrical cables attached to the ceiling followed the train track and disappeared into the rubble.

On the walls were frames with American flags, stone statues, representing the head of a man, probably a former President, and computer consoles for the operation of the track and the trains.

Next to the train track, several large metal letters were fixed on the wall, with an arrow in a circle, indicating the direction of the track.

"_'White House: West Wing. Adams Air Force Base'._ I knew it," Damian said with a smile.

Suddenly the lights on the ceiling came on. Some of the light bulbs popped, others sizzled and went out. The light was not enough to illuminate the place, but it gave a better idea of the environment they were in.

The Rangers aimed their weapons at the only two exits from the room, behind and in front of them. Loudspeakers in the walls and along the tunnel whistled and crackled before a female voice came out.

_"Welcome to the presidential metro system. This network is currently operating at 22% of its potential. Expect delays and plan your travel ahead. Have a nice day."_

Damian and the Rangers looked at each other. Their presence must have awakened the power grid on the metro.

"Do you think it's the Enclave?" Butcher asked.

"I don't think so," Damian replied, looking at the Sentry bot behind them. "The robot doesn't wear their symbol, and it still has its pre-war gray paint, not their black paint."

"_Careful,"_ the woman's voice hissed into the loudspeakers. _"Unidentified personnel detected in the presidential metro. Please identify yourself at the nearest security station. Have a nice day."_

From behind a double door, two more Sentry bots entered the room. Damian, Fawkes and the Rangers took shelter as best they could, behind a statue or a pillar. The robots raised their arms armed with laser cannons and fired.

Small pieces of marble were flying around as the laser discharges from the machines hit the walls or the floor.

Donovan threw a pulse grenade and the two machines came to a standstill when the electric ball engulfed them.

"Is everyone okay?" Reilly asked as the dust settled.

"Everything's okay," the other three Rangers answered in unison.

"I'm fine," Damian said.

"Me too," said Fawkes.

"So long for being sneaky," Butcher sighed.

They went past the burnt-out wrecks of the security robots and found themselves on another platform with two train tracks. The tunnel on the left had collapsed and a train was stuck on the tracks. The empty train set was quite different from the large beige cars covered with rust and dirt that lay in the stations and tunnels of the D.C. ruined metro.

The presidential metro trains had blue and gray bodies, large windows still intact but covered with dust and dirt, and a sober interior with only a few seats and bars or handles.

The exit from this small station, which was to lead up to the White House, was collapsed. The only way to continue was the train track on the right, dimly lit by emergency lighting, at the foot of the track and the platform along it, which, according to the direction indicated by an arrow on the wall, would lead them straight to the Capitol.

"All right, let's get back on the road," said Reilly. "Donovan, how many pulse grenades do you have left?"

"About ten," replied the mercenary, quickly counting the explosives on his belt and in his bag.

"Okay, you take the lead with me. Prepare a few in case we come across any more tin cans. Brick, close the formation. Five-meter intervals. Eyes and ears wide open."

The group set off and went into the tunnel leading to the Capitol. Damian took a quick look at the Rangers. Their faces expressed the same apprehension as his own. If they were heading towards the Capitol, then they were heading straight for a nest of Super Mutants.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Next time, we'll see how Damian and the Rangers manage to get to the Enclave base.**

**Until next time.**


	70. Chapter 70: The Crypt

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**In today's chapter, we continue to follow Damian and the Rangers as they venture deeper in the presidential metro.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

The presidential metro was in much better shape than its civilian counterpart. Damian and his group had virtually no need for service or maintenance corridors and simply followed the same tunnel to the Capitol. They would probably have to catch up with another tunnel to Adams Base, but for the moment they kept walking, shining their flashlights in front and behind them.

The Rangers walked silently with their rifles pointed in front of them, their ears outstretched, looking for the squeal of a security robot's wheels or the heavy step of a Super Mutant. They did not know if the mutants had discovered the entrance to this underground network. They had encountered no recent activity, except for a few rats and Radroaches. The small platform along the train track was often strewn with skeletons, sitting on benches, leaning against the wall or lying on the ground. Most of these skeletons wore shreds of costumes or dresses, hats and were accompanied by a leather suitcase. Others, wearing what was left of a uniform, had a hole in the back of their skull and traces of dried blood stained the wall or floor behind them. Beside them was a pistol.

The last people to have used the presidential metro during the Great War died of starvation, exhaustion, or had put an end to their lives, probably unable to return to the surface, too irradiated, and condemned to wait for death, slowly.

Damian stumbled into a skull on the ground, which rolled to a half-derailed train car. He lit up the inside of the car and found more bones, hugging each other, or clutching a suitcase against them. Next to one of them Damian noticed a magnetic keycard, similar to the one he had seen in Professor Calvert's laboratory in Point Lookout.

"Did you find anything?" Butcher asked.

"An identification badge, which must have belonged to this guy."

Damian picked up the small card and Butcher pointed his flashlight at it to illuminate it. Damian removed the layer of dust from the object and read it out loud.

"'_Senator Stephen Wernick'._"

He showed the badge to Butcher and the others. Donovan lowered his eyes to the skeleton.

"Not much of a final resting place, Senator."

"Enough," Reilly said. "Let's get on with it."

The mercenary walked away and lit the tunnel in front of them, before taking the lead again. Damian put the card in his fatigues. The badges from Calvert's lab had enabled him to unlock some security doors, and he assumed the same would happen here.

The tunnel ended in a dead end. The beams of the lamps stopped on the collapsed ceiling. Next to it was a double door, stamped with the President's seal.

Donovan and Reilly stood on either side of the doors... They nodded, opened the doors, and entered.

The room they were in was rectangular. The walls were covered with electrical wiring and computer consoles and data banks. In the center of the room was a small platform where a large console was located, with several screens, gauges and lights on.

"_Warning. Due to a security alert in the presidential metro, unidentified individuals are asked to use this workstation to identify themselves."_

The same female voice that had resonated through the metro's speakers came from the computer console.

Donovan approached the console and began to inspect it.

"_Please identify yourself."_

"Yeah, yeah," mumbled Donovan. "I'm just going to shut you down. It'll only take a minute."

Two automatic turrets came out of the walls and aimed at Damian and the others, forcing Donovan to back off.

"Don't move," Reilly whispered.

The turrets each loaded one round of ammunition.

"_Anyone who fails to identify himself or refuses to produce valid identification is subject to the use of lethal force by security units, in accordance with section A567/B of the United States security protocol. Good day."_

"Wait!" Damian cried out.

The turrets pointed at him. He grabbed the magnetic card he had found in the train car and presented it to the main computer screen, which showed an orange grid.

"I am an elected member of the Senate. This is my identification."

"_Please insert your badge."_

A slot in the console opened and Damian inserted the magnetic card. The machine swallowed the card, hummed for a few seconds, and then the card came out of the slot.

"_Identification confirmed. The other five unidentified persons must present valid identification or face lethal force, in accordance with section A567/B of the United States Security Protocol."_

Damian looked up at the turrets. He turned to Reilly and her men and to Fawkes who looked nervously at the console and the automatic machine guns. He turned to the console.

"These people are members of the US Army and are there to help solve the security problem."

"_A request for assistance to the US Army was sent by the presidential metro security network 17 years, 26 days, 9 hours and 16 minutes ago."_

The automatic turrets deactivated and went into the walls. Donovan breathed a relieved sigh and raised his helmet to wipe his forehead.

"_Welcome, Senator. How can I be of service to you?"_ asked the computer.

Damian retrieved the badge and looked at the Rangers. No one seemed to want to stop him from taking charge, and their gaze kept him going.

"Um... I... Who am I talking to?"

"_I'm M.A. .T., an artificial intelligence in charge of the security network, train control and maintenance of the presidential metro. I was put into service on April 14, 2065 at 0520 hours, very precisely."_

"Okay, uh, I need to know how to get to Adams Air Force Base. I... I have an appointment there."

"_The tunnel and train in service to Adams Air Force Base, has been indefinitely closed due to a security issue and catastrophic damage to the network."_

"How many Enclave troops are at the base or in the tunnels?"

"_My apologies, but I have no record of an "Enclave" in my memory banks."_

"Now, did anyone go through the tunnel to the base?"

"_The last passenger checked in was about 200 years and eight months ago."_

Damian turned to the Rangers.

"At least we know we're safe for the moment."

"Ask him what's going on here," Reilly whispered.

"_Security reports, as well as the state of the presidential subway, are available,"_ the machine replied.

"Give me the security report," Damian asked.

"_The connection to the surface and the White House was cut off 200 years ago. A major problem within the presidential subway system is currently underway in the southeast tunnels."_

"What kind of trouble?"

"_Presidential metro security units are currently in contact with a large number of individuals in the southeast tunnels."_

"And? Can you tell me more about these people?"

"_Unidentified individuals refused contact with security units and caused damage to the line at Adams Air Force Base. My materials indicate that these individuals have no body heat signatures and are emitting lethal amounts of radiation."_

"Great," Reilly mumbled.

Damian was not surprised to see that feral ghouls lived in these tunnels. The ghouls seemed to be fighting with the metro security robots. It was not really a problem, but the ghouls were between him and Adams base. He turned to the console. At least there was very little chance of them running into Talon Company mercs and Super Mutant fighting under the Capitol.

"Is there a train in service that can get to Adams Air Force Base?"

"_Once repaired, it will be possible to put a train back into service,"_ the machine confirmed.

"All right, then repair it," Donovan said.

"_Negative. No repairs can be considered due to the security situation."_

"Damn machine," hissed Reilly.

"What kind of repairs are you talking about?" Damian asked.

"_The main fuse in the power relay of the Adams Air Force Base tunnel was forcibly removed, damaging the system."_

"Can you fix it for us, Donovan?" Butcher asked.

"Yeah," replied the mercenary. "If I can get my hands on a spare fuse."

"_The main security unit is in possession of a spare fuse, but is unable to reach the car."_

Damian sighed. He turned to the Rangers who nodded.

"We're going to have to take care of everything ourselves," Reilly said. "As long as those cans don't shoot at us."

"_Your identification as a U.S. Senator and member of the U.S. Army has been recorded in my memory banks. Security units have been ordered to escort and assist you."_

As if to confirm the machine's claims, Damian heard several Sentry bots rolling down a corridor on the other side of the computer room.

"_Good day, Senator,"_ said the woman's voice.

The console screens went to sleep, and the machine hummed softly, its lights continuing to flash.

Damian and his group walked around the small platform where the computer was located. Behind a double door, they came across a corridor lined with maintenance capsules for the security robots of the presidential metro.

On the humidity-soaked floor, the corpses of feral ghouls mixed with those of Protectrons. The ghouls had been dead for several days, judging by the smell of the corpses. The corridor led them to the tunnel and to the tracks where several Sentry bots were waiting for them.

The tunnel was lit by emergency lighting. Small yellow bulbs were fixed to the base of the walls, behind a small grid and spaced five meters apart.

"Well, which way?" asked Brick.

Damian lit the tunnel to the left. Thirty meters further on, his beam hit the collapsed ceiling and walls. The tunnel on the right seemed intact. Butcher shone his lamp into it and the spot of light was lost in the darkness.

"There doesn't seem to be much choice," said the Ranger doctor, scratching his temple.

Moving along the path, escorted by the Sentry bots was something strange. Damian was torn between a feeling of confidence and nervousness. These machines of death could spot the presence of enemies long before they did and would provide them with considerable fire support. On the other hand, if these robots were to go haywire, Damian and his group would quickly be overwhelmed and get killed.

"By the way, what do we do once we get to Adams base?" Donovan asked.

He turned to Damian and questioned him on sight.

"When I was at their base in Raven Rock, their soldiers left me alone until Autumn ordered them to shoot me. I was able to move around, escorted by one of their officers, but I felt like no one was paying attention to me."

"So you have a plan?"

"I've been thinking about it, yes. When the Brotherhood attacks, I think they'll send all their forces to retaliate. That should clear us a path to the base control tower and from there, hopefully we'll find a way to get into that mobile platform."

"And if we don't? What if there's still too many guys out there for us to get through unnoticed?"

"I was thinking of putting one of their power armors, but it takes special training to get into one of them. If the Brotherhood can pull this off, the Enclave shouldn't be suspicious of their own soldiers running around."

"We'll see when we get there," Reilly cut. "For now, let's focus on the ghoul problem."

Silence engulfed them again, only broken by the hammering of their boots on the dock and the mechanical squealing of the robots.

After a few minutes of walking, they arrived at a fork in the tracks. The track they were following split in two and joined a third track. In the center was a small triangular platform, with the beginning of a new tunnel at each corner, formerly used as a signal box, with several automatic turrets.

The Sentry bots came to a halt and turned towards the tunnel on the right.

"_Hostile individuals detected. Presidential metro security compromised. Section A567/B is in effect."_

The machines placed themselves on the tracks and activated their laser weapons. Damian and the Rangers exchanged glances. He and Fawkes climbed onto a platform and pointed their weapons at the dark tunnel. Reilly and her men positioned themselves behind the pillars along the track or at the control consoles on the platform.

There was a heavy silence in the tunnel. The robots stood motionless, facing the tunnel, where the beams of the lamps crossed and crisscrossed.

Crouching behind a pillar or a switch console, Damian, Fawkes and the Rangers looked at each other, looking over their shoulders, stretching their stiffened muscles with tension.

"I can't see anything," Butcher blew.

"The damn tin can's bugged," hissed Reilly.

A crescendo squeak came from the depths of the tunnel. Damian saw something moving on the ground, where his beam was lost in the darkness. The ground was moving, undulating slowly. Dozens of rats and Radroaches were swarming on the track, the platform or the walls, running towards them.

Reilly looked down and saw that the animals were crawling between her legs, passing over her feet without paying any attention to her. The Rangers and Damian watched in amazement as the spectacle unfolded before them. Only Fawkes, who seemed insensitive to the sight of the vermin crawling all around them, kept his laser gatling and his eyes fixed on the tunnel.

"What the fuck?" Brick said.

"Something's scaring them," Damian answered, turning his gaze towards the tunnel.

Behind the scraping of the claws of the rats and Radroaches on the metal and concrete, they heard a growl, quickly joined by a dozen others. Several silhouettes of feral ghouls stood out in the tunnel, running towards them.

Damian placed one of the ghouls in his scope and pulled the trigger. The ghoul he touched, at chest level, collapsed to the ground, just before being trampled on by its fellow ghouls.

Reilly's Rangers fired in their turn. Single shots, then short bursts, and finally, the continuous clattering of assault rifles fitted with silencers. Each ghoul killed, collapsed to the ground and was immediately replaced by another. Some stopped and threw themselves on the bodies of their fellow ghouls, sometimes still alive, and devoured them.

Fawkes activated his laser gatling, at the same time as the Sentry bots and automatic turrets began firing. The rays from the energy weapons lit up the tunnel with a bright red glow.

"I'm reloading!" Butcher said, grabbing a new magazine for his submachinegun.

"There's too many of them, we have to get out of here Reilly!" Donovan cried. "Let the robots take care of it."

"We stay in position!" barked the young lady.

Donovan swore and started shooting again. Damian looked up, the turrets started beeping, indicating they were running out of ammunition.

The ghouls were pouring out of the tunnel at breakneck speed. Damian inserted a new magazine into his rifle. His sweaty hands gripped the handle of his rifle. The firepower of the Sentry bots and Fawkes did not seem to slow them down and they continued to throw themselves into the deluge of bullets and laser rays.

"We're going to run out of bullets before we run out of targets!"

Some of the ghouls, emitting a bright yellow light, exploded in a cloud of fluorescent blood and pieces of flesh when a laser discharge hit it.

The ghouls' mad charge ceased as quickly as it had begun. Small grunts or growls emanated from the mutants who were dying on the tracks.

Damian lowered his weapon, smoke billowing from the silencer and sighed deeply. The Sentry bots began to roll through the tunnel and finished off the ghouls that were still alive.

The dim light in the tunnel and the sudden attack had made them think there were many more ghouls. A total of fifteen feral ghouls had thrown themselves at them, just as their fellows had done in the ruins of D.C.

Damian saw the Rangers cautiously approach the corpses and touch them with the tip of their feet or with the barrels of their weapons.

"Check your weapon and ammo," Reilly said, turning to the rest of the group. "And stay alert."

They resumed their advance through the tunnel, this time more slowly. Eventually they came to some sort of station. A corridor, a stairway, and a sign indicating the entrance to the Capitol. Quietly, Reilly signaled Brick to go and inspect the small corridor. The mercenary returned a few seconds later.

"The door to the Capitol is unlocked," she explained. "It's quiet for now. No muties and no Talon assholes."

"Well, let's hope that they all nuked each other up there. Anything else we need to know?"

"Nothing, the hallway's empty. Just the bodies of the poor guys who got trapped there during the Great War. I don't think the Super Mutants or Talon know there's a tunnel under the Capitol."

Damian and the others let the Sentry bots go ahead. Every once in a while they would hear a rattle, quickly muffled by the crackle of a laser.

While walking, Damian imagined what this metro could look like before the Great War. Senators in suits and soft hats, discussing politics on the train that took them to a Senate session. Police officers standing guard at the various stations, saluting men and women as they walked up and down the steps to the Capitol.

He tried to imagine how these people must have felt, trapped in these tunnels, as on the surface their world disappeared in an ocean of flames and radiation, giving way to a dead city soon covered in the ashes, dust and snow of a nuclear winter.

What had they been thinking about when their world had collapsed and they realized that they would die in those tunnels, in the dark, alone. Had they been thinking about the few families and people who had registered in the Vaults and were also underground? Had they cursed them because they were protected from radiation, from hunger, from thirst? Damian doubted that they would have envied the residents of the Vaults if they had known the fate that awaited some of them.

Passing by another pile of bones, Damian wondered if they were feral ghouls, long dead, or men and women trapped in these tunnels. Seeing a Sentry bot a little further on, he wondered about the cause of death of these people. Had they killed themselves, had they died of radiation poisoning, or had they been massacred by ghouls or the security system of the presidential metro?

"Look out front," Donovan said. "There's a hole in the ceiling."

The mercenary had his lift light towards a wide opening in the tunnel ceiling and the inside of a large exhaust duct was visible.

"I think we've found where the ghouls entered," Reilly commented.

As if to support his point, a slight growl echoed through the vent and a ghoul crawled to the opening. The ghoul crashed heavily to the ground and began to rise slowly. Reilly raised her rifle and the sound of the silencer was replaced by a hiccup as the bullet went through the creature's head.

The tunnel continued for another twenty meters or so to a small station. A train car was stopped on a new track, and an arrow pointed in the direction of Adams Air Force Base. Next to the small station was an old checkpoint behind reinforced glass. Donovan went inside and found an electrical box. The lid was broken and some of the fuses were destroyed or missing.

"You think you can fix it for us, Donovan?"

"Not sure," replied the mercenary. "The fuse box is pretty messed up and without spare parts..."

"That machine said one of its Sentry bots had a spare fuse," Brick said. Just ask around.

"Senator, after you," Donovan said.

Damian sighed and turned to one of the security robots before clearing his throat.

"Uh, we've fixed the security problem, is it possible to fix the train for Adams base?"

The robot remained inert. Damian was about to repeat his question when the speakers hissed.

"_Security breach in the southeast tunnels resolved. Please wait for a maintenance unit to arrive for repairs. Have a nice day."_

Five minutes later, a Sentry bot arrived at the station. It entered the control room and approached the electrical box. Curious, Donovan looked over the robot, eager to know how the machine, which had a minigun and a rocket launcher as arms, was going to be able to perform a repair operation.

A small slit in the robot's body opened and a small pair of claws came out, holding a fuse. The machine repaired the box, as efficiently as an electrician would have done, and returned to the tunnel, after throwing a mechanical and threatening _"Good day"_.

The inside of the train lit up and the double metal doors opened. Donovan entered the cabin and inspected the cockpit.

"So?" asked Damian.

"It doesn't look very complicated. You just press here and there, and then..."

A slight buzzing sound escaped from the oar. The Rangers and Fawkes, who had to sit down immediately to avoid hitting the ceiling, entered.

"You press here, turn this thing around and, voilà."

The doors closed and the train shook for a few seconds before moving slowly and then faster and faster, before stabilizing at a good speed.

Damian could not hold back a smile when he felt the little jolts under his feet and saw the tunnel walls passing by next to him.

"It's funny," said Donovan, who must have felt the same way.

Damian glanced behind him. Fawkes and the other Rangers looked at each other and looked out the windows, a blissful smile on their faces. What in the pre-war world had been a natural thing, was proving to be an extraordinary experience for these men and women of the post-atomic Wasteland.

Donovan set the speed of the train. He wanted to push it as hard as he could to get to Adams Base as quickly as possible, but he decided that the old train was better if it was maintained at a regular speed. The mercenary stood in front of the driver's console and started whistling. Reilly and her men sat on the floor of the car or leaned against a window.

They passed a few side tunnels, where Sentry bots were patrolling and fighting some feral ghouls.

"Say, do you think those ghouls have been around for two centuries?" Butcher asked. "Or maybe they entered through that conduit we saw earlier."

"Who knows," answered Brick. "Those things love tunnels and dark places. Remember that building in Takoma? The Coverga dealership?"

"Yeah, I remember," shuddered the Ranger doctor. "You couldn't see a fucking thing, and the fucking ghouls were coming from everywhere. Poor Theo. He pissed his pants, remember?"

"Yeah," Brick smiled. "Remember his face? He looked down at his pants, and then he looked up, all pissed up, and he goes, _'Guys, I think I peed myself'_."

"Yeah," Butcher replied, holding back from laughing. "He had sat at the wheel of one of the cars and woke up the ghoul sleeping in the backseat."

"Yeah, I've never seen a guy run so fast!"

The two Rangers laughed for a few seconds and then lost their gaze in the blank, as if they felt guilty. Damian observed them briefly. They, Reilly and Donovan, were all looking down or biting their lips. It was always difficult to talk about their former partner, who died in their operation in Vernon Square.

"Yeah," sighed Reilly. "And two days later, brave Theo was being killed."

Damian remembered the mutilated corpse he had seen in the stairwell of that hotel in Vernon Square. The body of a young man, no older than he was.

"Hey, why are we slowing down?"

Damian turned his head towards Donovan and the machine driver's console. He got up and went to look. The mercenary had just reduced the speed of the train and had his eyes riveted on the track that passed next to theirs. On that track, a stationary train was stopped. Reilly turned on her flashlight and lit the train. Inside, several dead bodies, wearing shreds of khaki uniforms. All of them had their heads resting against the windows of the car and fixed Damian's train from their empty sockets.

The infiltration group watched the train stopped in this network of tunnels, which, like the one in D.C., had become a crypt where thousands of people were resting for eternity. These skeletons, lying on the platforms, in the corridors or sitting in the metro trains, watched over the living who dared to venture underground, into their kingdom.

"How long is it before we get to Adams base?" Brick asked, taking her eyes off the bones.

"Should not be long," Damian answered. "We should be there soon at this speed."

"All right," Reilly said. "There's no way we're going to get to the station with that thing, so we'll go down and finish the last few miles on foot. The Enclave have been eager to control the entrance of the metro inside the ruins, so they must be taking over the tunnel near their base, the question is whether it's a single sentry or a whole squad. Either way, I want a fast, discreet, and accurate action. Is that understood?"

"Understood," the Rangers answered in unison.

"What do we do when we take the station?" Donovan asked.

"We go along with Franklin's idea. We grab some enemy uniforms and use them to blend in. As soon as the Brotherhood launches its attack, we'll head to the ATC to try to find out more about this mobile platform. Any questions?"

"Just one. What do we do with him?" Brick asked. "I can't see him fitting into one of those uniforms."

All eyes turned to the Super Mutant. He looked at the Rangers and Damian, and then addressed Damian.

"I'd like to accompany you on your task," said Fawkes. "But my presence will probably be more useful if I stay behind and offer you my support."

He laid his hand on his laser gatling and the Tesla cannon.

"We'll see when the time comes," Reilly answered. "Depending on how many enemy uniforms we can get, we'll see who stays with him. It's far from a perfect plan, but it's all we've got."

Damian sat on the floor and leaned against the train car doors. The physical and psychological fatigue of the last few days was overwhelming him. He wanted to rest, to sleep, but the growing lump in his belly prevented him from closing his eyes.

Turning to the others, he realized that he was not the only one to fear the mission that awaited them. Brick was mechanically counting her ammunition, Fawkes seemed immersed in his thoughts, Donovan was smoking cigarette after cigarette, and Reilly and Butcher had gone a little further away to talk in a low voice.

He had faced death so many times he had lost count. He had been in the middle of a big battle, helped recreate a bayonet charge in a military simulation, infiltrated the Super Mutant lair, survived arena battles in a ruined city controlled by Raiders, defeated an alien army, and faced countless times with enemies superior in numbers, and always managed to escape. Yet this time he felt fear and loneliness. In all these situations, he had not really had time to settle down or think about it. Now that he had some time before he threw himself into the battle again, his whole mind was occupied with it. He could not get out of his mind what might happen if he failed, and if the Enclave won, and he doubted. He doubted that he would be able to carry out this mission successfully.

The car began to slow down and then came to a complete stop. Damian got up and checked his equipment. The doubt was gone and his mind was now focused on one thing. The success of his mission.

"This is it," Reilly said softly. "Brick, with Donovan on point. Franklin, you're with me. Butcher, you stay behind with the Super Mutant."

The Ranger doctor nodded. He glanced uncomfortably briefly at Fawkes, who bowed slightly.

The group followed the tunnel along the wall. They had turned off their lights and were almost groping along. Damian let himself be guided by the wall on their left, and the breathing of the person in front of him.

They arrived in front of a barricade. Stacked bags of sand, metal and wooden piles, a spotlight connected to a generator, shining a faint light towards the tunnel, enough to illuminate for about ten meters. Behind the sandbags, a heavy machine gun, a flamethrower and two Enclave soldiers, in full power armor. They stood motionless, staring at the tunnel in front of them. Occasionally, Damian could hear them speaking in mid-voice.

Donovan turned to Reilly, who nodded. Silently, the mercenary knelt and opened his bag. Damian saw him pull out a long rifle, equipped with a silencer. A DKS-501 sniper rifle in perfect condition.

Brick knelt and Donovan put the barrel of the rifle on her shoulder. He put the scope in front of his eye. Donovan stood perfectly still for several seconds.

A clacking sound was heard. One of the soldiers fell to the ground. His companion looked at him and then turned towards the tunnel, before a second shot, muffled by the silencer, slammed and killed him.

The small group put the rifle away and approached the barricade, passed it, and continued to advance to a small deserted station, the terminus of the line to Adams Air Force Base. They walked along the walls until Donovan signaled them to stop. They were standing at the corner of a fork between two corridors, and Damian could hear a few shouts from the other side. Donovan raised his closed fist to his head, then loosened it and clenched it several times.

Damian did not know much about military jargon or sign language, but with what little Sarah had taught him, he realized that they were facing four enemy soldiers.

Reilly motioned for him to approach the fork. The young woman nodded to Brick and Donovan who were standing by. She looked into Damian's eyes.

"Take out the guy in power armor on the left," she said.

Damian nodded silently.

"Three," whispered Reilly.

Damian heard Donovan put his gun on automatic.

"Two."

Brick tightened her grip on the handle of her rifle.

"One," she whispered.

Reilly, Donovan, Brick and Damian sprang from the hallway. They raised their weapons at the soldiers. Among them, two officers. The soldiers, turning to the Rangers, dropped their coffee cups or rations. The two officers reached for their holsters, and the two soldiers in power armor bent down to grab their plasma rifles.

The silencers rattled, then the sound of bodies falling to the ground. The Rangers and Damian approached and checked the rest of the corridor. They were alone. A little further down the stairs leading to the surface and into the heart of Adams Air Force Base.

"Donovan, Butcher, stash the bodies. Brick, watch the entrance."

The Ranger Commander approached one of the officers, a dark red hole in his head. She looked at the second officer. His uniform was a little stained with blood.

"Take his uniform," she said to Damian. "I'll go with you."

* * *

**I had initialy planned on making something with the Super Mutant and Talon Company mercs in the Capitol building, but I decided to not put anything, as all the idea I had were not adding anything to the story, other than some random action sequences of running and gunning.**

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Until next time.**


	71. Chapter 71: Black Ops

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**So, I've been playing a lot of RTS like games lately and for some, I added a few Fallout mods. I always loved playing Heart of Iron 4 and turning the game into a large scale RTS in the Fallout universe where you can conquer the West Coast as Arroyo or go on a full Barbarossa-like campaign with the NCR against the Legion is awesome.**

**Same with the game Rimworld, where managing settlement IS fun (looking at you FO4 and Preston). Especially if you are a cheaty little bastard like me and start with a pack of Deathclaws as pet to crush any raiding party coming to steal your stuff.**

**Anyway, today, in today's chapter, Damian and Reilly are going full infiltration in Adams.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

Reilly finished adjusting the collar of the uniform and placed the cap on her red hair. She checked the energy microcell in the plasma pistol she stored on the holster on her belt before turning down the hallway where the bodies of the four Enclave soldiers were hidden, and then turned to Damian, who was finishing hiding his 10mm pistol under his jacket.

The Enclave had installed only weak defenses in the presidential metro. There was a guard post 500 meters from the station, with only two guards and heavy equipment. The station was guarded by only two soldiers, and the officers must surely have gone down to greet them or make sure they had not fallen asleep.

These defenses were in contradiction with what the Brotherhood's reconnaissance squad had observed on the surface. The bulk of their force had to be concentrated around the mobile platform, inside the base and in the outer perimeter. The Enclave had overlooked or judged that no one but ghouls or wild animals could get out of these tunnels and had probably counted on the fact that the presidential metro security system would defeat all intruders, and they probably sent their patrols around the Capitol and the White House to check if the other entrance were destroyed or not.

Negligence or a poorly thought-out decision, these meager defenses and decisions were a godsend for Damian. They had infiltrated silently, and since no one had yet gotten to them, the was certainly still unaware of their presence.

Damian felt cramped in that uniform. His former owner was smaller than he was, and Damian hoped that no one would notice the clothes that were too small for him. He moistened his fingers and rubbed the blood on the collar and turned to Reilly. Her uniform was the perfect size, event though an attentive viewer would notice that she wore a male uniform.

Donovan had gone to join Brick to watch the exit of the metro while Butcher and Fawkes came back from the corridor where they had hidden the bodies.

"How do I look?" Reilly asked Butcher.

The Ranger doctor looked at her from head to toe.

"You look like the worst drill sergeant in the world," the mercenary smiled.

"Perfect."

They turned around as Brick came back to them.

"So?" Reilly asked her.

"You're not going to be alone. I counted about 30 guys. They mainly do guard duties in front of the base buildings, but it also moves a lot. And there are a lot of laser turrets on the roofs."

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Butcher asked.

"No," Damian and Reilly answered.

The Ranger commander readjusted her jacket.

"Franklin, contact the Brotherhood. Tell them we've infiltrated the presidential metro station under the base, donned enemy uniforms and are on our way out."

"We're not waiting for the Brotherhood to launch the attack?" Brick asked.

"No, we're not. If we sit here and do nothing, we run the risk of being exposed."

"What do we do if we get spotted?" asked the Ranger doctor.

Reilly seemed to think for a few seconds.

"You go into the tunnel and go back to the station where we took the train. If they follow you, they'll be greeted by the Sentry bots."

"What about you?" Butcher insisted.

"We'll improvise, as always."

She gave Butcher a pat on the shoulder and headed for the stairs leading to the surface. Damian grabbed the radio Fawkes was holding.

"Paladin, uh, this is Lone Wanderer. We're in."

"_Copy that, we're almost in position."_

"We put on enemy uniforms."

"_Understood. Be careful. We'll launch the assault in 10 mikes. Good luck and... Godspeed. Pride actual out."_

The Paladin cut the transmission and Damian gave the radio back to Fawkes, hoping that the Enclave was not listening to them and preparing a welcome comity for him and Reilly. The Super Mutant had dropped his laser gatling and was holding the Tesla cannon in his arms.

"Good luck, my friend," said the mutant in what came closest to a smile.

"To you, too," Damian replied.

He joined Reilly and Donovan at the door to the surface. Reilly was tuning a small radio in her ear. She gave it to a Damian who hung it in his ear after calibrating it.

"10 minutes before the Brotherhood assault."

Reilly nodded silently. She waved to Donovan and opened the door. After checking that the way was clear, she opened it wide and walked out, Damian on her heels.

The entrance to the presidential metro station was in a hole, dug in the ground, with brick walls. The typical D.C. metro canopy obscured the sky, and a simple staircase led to the base.

The small square where they stood was decorated with a large metal statue of a fighter plane in full maneuver and a bronze plaque on a concrete wall with the blazon of the Adams base, when it was still in operation.

The buildings had suffered from the War and the 200 years of neglect, but the Enclave had set about rehabilitating them. Some of the windows had been boarded up, others were being renovated. Posters from the Enclave were covering almost every wall, along with American flags.

The road and the base entrance were watched by a guard post and a blue force field. On the roofs and corners of some buildings, laser or automatic turrets scanned the courtyard and the Wastes.

Nearly all the entrances to the buildings were guarded by two men in power armor and small groups of officers walked through the courtyard, greeting each other, or chatting amongst themselves.

"Donovan, do you copy?"

"_Loud and clear, Reilly. You guys all right?"_ sizzled the mercenary's voice into their earpieces.

"Yeah. It's gonna be hard for you to join us, even after the attack starts. We're heading for the ATC tower. I'll contact you as soon as the diversion begins."

"_Copy that. Stay safe."_

Damian and Reilly followed the road that ran through the base and passed between the old staff and maintenance buildings. Vertibirds roared overhead and landed on the runway and near the hangars on the other side of the administration buildings.

The officers or soldiers they came across would give them a military salute, which Damian and Reilly would return to them.

Damian was counting in his mind. If his calculation was right, they had 7 minutes left before the attack.

On their left, the old barracks, converted for the Enclave soldiers, were bustling with activity. Soldiers standing at attention in front of an officer, men and women, organized in two columns, running along the perimeter wall singing a patriotic and martial tune.

Damian could feel his right-hand itching. The handle of the plasma pistol stolen from the officer was stored in his holster on his left hip. Seeing the members of the Enclave, chatting, smiling, joking, made him sick.

He heard Reilly loudly clearing her throat and turned to him.

"Stop staring at them like that," the young woman whispered. "You're going to get us noticed."

Damian grumbled and tried to look less aggressive.

They followed the road that now led to the hangars and the runway. An army of technicians and mechanics were bus, refueling, or filling up with ammunition Vertibirds, under the watchful eye of the pilots and a few officers.

The hangars and runway were separated by a force field. On the other side, on the runway, rows of Vertibirds were loading and unloading troops.

"Shit, how many of these aircraft do they have?" Reilly whispered while looking at the row of Vertibirds.

The approaches to the runway were strewn with pre-war aircraft wrecks, and buildings. Much of the runway was unusable, due to a series of craters of explosions of varying sizes on the tarmac.

Damian scanned the area until his eyes hit a huge mass. Three or four stories high, resting on a series of four enormous tracks, a gigantic platform stood in front of them. The Enclave had connected a gigantic satellite antenna to it, the same model as those found in the Capital Wasteland around Raven Rock in the mountains. A multitude of fuel tanks and several helipads were on the platform, and on closer inspection Damian could see soldiers marching and standing guard on them, next to fortified positions and artillery.

"Holy shit...," Damian whispered.

He was flabbergasted by the sight. Since the report of the Brotherhood reconnaissance team, he had been trying to get an idea of what the mobile base crawler might look like. Now that it was in front of him, a feeling of helplessness overcame him. Taking on something like that was impossible, even with Liberty Prime's firepower. If the Brotherhood approached, their troops would be slaughtered.

"The control tower is that way. Come on."

Reilly took Damian from his thoughts and pointed to a large concrete tower, with several large windows at the top. The tower was leaning against a large building and was on the other side of the hangars at the end of the runway.

The hangars were used to house other Vertibirds, but most of them were used as a shooting range for the Enclave soldiers, or as warehouses. One of them served as a giant cage for Deathclaws, locked in individual cages or behind force fields.

The mutant animals all had mental control devices on their heads, and several scientists from the Enclave, accompanied by Sentry bots and officers, talked while pointing at the mutants.

Damian saw Reilly shiver. Facing these creatures was never a very pleasant experience, and often meant the loss of a limb, if you were lucky. The idea of dealing with a trained and obedient army of these things must have been a terrifying thought for the mercenary.

A detonation in the distance drew everyone's attention. Damian, Reilly, the soldiers, officers and scientists of the Enclave around them, turned, as one man, towards the entrance of the base. In the distance, hidden behind the buildings and the base wall, a column of black smoke rose into the sky.

More detonations sounded, faster. The various soldiers and officers looked at each other. An alarm sounded in the base. Suddenly, everything went off. The officers began barking orders, the soldiers ran to the scene of the explosion, or rushed to the Vertibirds, whose engines began to run.

"_Reilly! Do you read me?"_ spat Donovan's voice into the radio.

"What's going on?_"_ the Ranger commander asked, raising her voice slightly.

"_The Brotherhood launched their attack sooner than expected. They were spotted by an enemy patrol."_

"We heard an explosion," confirmed Reilly. "The whole base is going to fall on them."

"_Yeah, it's moving around here, too. I can see several enemy platoons heading out the exit and battle areas. Looks like trouble. As soon as the coast is clear, we'll try to reach you."_

Reilly and Damian exchanged looks. Taking advantage of the attack, they moved towards the control tower. The only access to the building was via an outside staircase and a metal footbridge, leading directly to the base of the tower.

They went through the door that led to a set of desks, where several Sentry bots were patrolling and soldiers from the Enclave were busy giving orders. Damian and Reilly climbed a series of stairs to the tower.

They quietly entered, locked the door behind them, and silently climbed the few steps that separated them from the top.

The large windows in the ATC tower were mostly broken. The old computers, radars, and consoles used to switch pre-war air traffic were still there, and the Enclave used them to direct its Vertibirds.

Three soldiers were sitting in front of monitors, radio headphones over their ears, and their eyes glued to the aircrafts on the tarmac and their radar screens.

"How come we didn't see the Brotherhood coming?" cried one of the soldiers.

"More good work from our superiors!"

"Vulture 6, please confirm the presence of enemy troops at the south entrance."

One of the soldiers turned to Reilly and Damian and stared at them, frowning.

"What are you doing here?"

In response, Reilly and Damian drew their silenced pistols. The soldier barely had time to swear and put his hand on his holster that the back of his skull exploded when Damian pulled the trigger. The second air traffic controller drew his gun but was shot in the heart before he could raise it. He slumped down in his chair and pulled the trigger and the gun went off. The bullet ricocheted off the floor and lodged in the ceiling of the control tower. The third man raised his hands in the air, terrified.

"Please no!" he cried.

Damian was about to fire but he stopped his finger at the last moment. He put his hand on Reilly's gun and shook his head silently while looking at her. Without saying a word, he approached the soldier, grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and pulled him towards him.

"How do you get into the mobile base crawler?"

"What... I…"

Damian hit him in the nose with the handle of his pistol. The man fell from his chair and hiccupped in pain before burying his face in his hands. Damian grabbed him by the hair and bent his head back, forcing him to look at him.

"How. Do. We. Get. Into. The. Mobile. Base. Crawler? he repeated, stressing each word.

"The terminal, there," replied the soldier holding his broken nose.

Reilly approached the computer, wiped the blood off the screen and started typing on the keyboard. She looked up from the screen at the moving platform and grabbed a pair of binoculars. Between the two sets of tracks, allowing the gigantic structure to move, a small metal footbridge had just been lowered.

"That's it!" cried Reilly. "I'll tell Donovan, so he can relay the information."

One of the radios in the control tower began to crackle.

"_Control tower, why did you lower the ramp to the main base?"_

Damian looked at Reilly and then at the soldier from the Enclave.

"_Control tower,"_ repeated the voice. _"Bring the ramp up immediately."_

"Tell them the computer's down," Damian told the soldier.

The soldier wiped the blood from his nose and lips and approached the microphone.

"This is control tower. The computer controlling the ramp is malfunctioning," said the soldier in a shaky voice. "The connection to the ramp is broken."

"_Where is Captain Wilkins?"_ said the voice in a shivering voice. _"Put him on! Now!"_

At the same time, they heard knocking against the door, and a muffled voice from the other side.

"Shit," Reilly cursed. "We're going to have visitors."

"_Where's Wilkins?"_ the voice in the radio repeated in an angry tone.

"The Captain's dead!" yelled the soldier into the microphone. "The enemy has seized the tower and..."

The soldier's body collapsed on one of the consoles. Damian put his pistol away and sat down in front of the radio, which he calibrated to the Brotherhood's frequency.

"Try to block the door!" Damian said. "I'm going to contact Tristan and tell him to send some men here!"

Reilly grabbed the chairs and threw them down the stairs. The door opened and the bust of an Enclave officer rushed in. Reilly raised her pistol and put a bullet in his shoulder and chest. The officer's body was trapped across the opening, and behind him they heard insults.

"Donovan! If you want to join the party, it's now or never!" Reilly said into her radio while grabbing her plasma pistol.

The soldiers of the Enclave had removed their comrade's body from the door and were beginning to pass out their weapons and fire a few bursts.

"Franklin, we've got to hurry up and get to that base before they figure out a way to close that ramp or we get killed!"

"Tristan, this is Lone Wanderer! We've found access to the mobile platform, but we're stuck in the control tower!"

"_You'll have to do it on your own! We're scattered all over the perimeter of the base!"_

Damian swore. He looked over his shoulder and saw Reilly firing several plasma balls down the stairs and heard a scream coming from it. He turned to the exploded windows in the tower. Going down that way was impossible. Their only way out was through a horde of enemy soldiers.

"Where are the others?" Damian cried.

"They're trapped in the hangars!"

Explosions, gunfire and screams rang out all around them throughout the base. Damian looked out one of the windows. On the runway, he could see the small silhouettes of the Enclave soldiers around Vertibirds still waiting for the order to take off. In the hangars, several silhouettes were shooting at each other and Damian thought he recognized Fawkes' silhouette, accompanied by several soldiers in khaki or Brotherhood power armors.

Three Vertibirds stormed past the tower. They flew over the hangars, when one of them turned back. It stood in front of the tower and started to fly towards it.

"Reilly, get down!"

The young woman turned around and saw Damian throw himself on top of her and pin her to the ground. Several soldiers from the Enclave entered the tower.

"We've got you, Brotherhood scum!"

They raised their weapons and immediately a terrifying rumble sounded. A hail of bullets fell inside the trembling tower. The burst lasted only a few seconds. The roar gave way to the roar of a Vertibird's engines.

Damian opened his eyes. The floor of the tower was littered with human pieces, skulls, arms. The soldiers and officers of the Enclave had had their bodies torn apart by the Vertibird's minigun.

"Incoming!"

Damian turned his head and saw the Vertibird positioning for a second pass. Reilly jumped down the stairs, bumping into an Enclave officer on his way up. Damian threw himself to the ground again, when he heard a blast coming from the aircraft. He straightened his head and saw the Vertibird, one of its engines destroyed, spinning towards him, out of control.

He crawled up the stairs and felt the Vertibird hit the tower in a tremendous shock. A few seconds later, a gigantic metallic crash sounded in the hangars.

"What happened?" asked Reilly as she got up.

Damian shrugged. They heard more voices at the foot of the tower, then, gunshots and laser being fired. Someone came up the stairs, then a voice rang out.

"Rangers!"

Damian recognized Butcher's voice. Reilly told him they were there and the rest of the Rangers, accompanied by Fawkes and three Brotherhood soldiers joined them.

"I'm glad you're all in one piece," Butcher smiled.

Donovan held two armor plasters in his arms and gave them to Reilly and Damian.

"You'll probably feel better with these."

"Thank you. How's it going?" Reilly asked.

"Not so good. The Brotherhood is able to go through some places of the perimeter, but the Vertibird are a real pain in the ass. It's still shooting up in the hangars. We passed these three on the way to meet you."

The three Brotherhood soldiers briefly greeted Damian and Reilly.

"Some of our men are on the tarmac. They made it through, but the Enclave still holds the North, East and South of the base."

\- What happened with the Vertibird? Damian asked.

In response, Fawkes presented him with the Tesla cannon.

"This thing is awesome," smiled Donovan.

"When the Vertibird turned around for its second pass to shoot you, Fawkes shot him. He hit the engine and the beam of the cannon cut it off completely. It crashed into the defenders between us and the tower, we just had to finish the job.

Several detonations sounded and they saw small clouds of smoke escaping from the mobile base crawler. Shells fell on the hangar area and a little further on.

"We need to destroy that thing."

"I'll take care of it," Damian said as he retrieved his assault rifle, Pip-Boy and equipment from Donovan's hands. "But crossing the airstrip to the ramp is suicide."

"We're going to establish a line of fire here," Reilly replied.

She turned to her men and began to give her orders.

"Donovan, with me in the tower. Brick and Butcher, you watch the floor below."

"You. I'm going to need your help," Damian told the Brotherhood soldiers.

The soldiers looked at him and Fawkes.

"The five of us against that thing?" cried one of them.

"We got you back, Knight."

"Most of their men must be on the platform defending it. There should be a few defenders on the inside, but most of their strength should be on the outside, fighting the Brotherhood," Damian replied.

Donovan searched his bag and gave Damian several pulse grenades.

"Here, these will come in handy against their power armor or robots."

They all took a quick look at each other.

"Good luck," said Reilly.

Damian thanked her with a nod. He, Fawkes and the Brotherhood soldiers left the control tower and ran out onto the mobile base crawler.

In the sky, the ceaseless ballet of Vertibirds was unfolding before their eyes. All of them were heading towards the ends of the base and Damian could hear their cannons firing and their rockets whistling to their targets.

They ran down the track to the moving platform, which became more and more impressive and threatening as they approached. Behind him, Damian could hear the fire coming from the control tower.

A series of laser and plasma discharges forced them to take cover behind a truck. Several Enclave soldiers, sheltered behind metal fences, were shooting at them, more to force them into hiding than to kill them.

"Reilly, the fortification on the runway, about fifty meters from us!"

Damian heard gunshots coming from the tower and rapidly, the Enclave soldiers ceased fire. As Damian looked up, he saw that the way was clear. Several soldiers on the platform were shooting at them. Damian raised his rifle and fired blindly to allow the Brotherhood soldiers to cross the runway.

Two Vertibirds rushed overhead.

"Take cover!"

The Brotherhood soldiers jumped into a crater, while Damian and Fawkes flattened under the truck. The two aircraft made another pass, firing all over the place in the hope of hitting them. Fawkes crawled out from under the truck and placed the Tesla gun on his shoulder, aimed and pulled the trigger. A pale blue ray of energy shot out of the gun. One of the Vertibird was hit in the tail and began to spin out of control. The second Vertibird abruptly changed course before getting hit and moved away towards the front lines.

Damian and his party left the crater and flew towards the platform. Damian heard a hissing sound behind his back. He turned around and saw a rocket heading in their direction.

Damian felt the ground shake and fell to the ground. He got up, buzzed slightly and looked over his shoulder. One of the Brotherhood soldiers had disappeared and the other two were lying on the ground with their bodies mangled and torn apart. Damian looked for Fawkes, and he saw him, safe and sound, getting up.

They reached the ramp and climbed up to a metal door. Damian looked towards the tarmac.

"Reilly, I'm at the platform. How's it going for you?"

"_Not good. The Enclave is repelling the Brotherhood. I don't think we can hold the control tower much longer. And you?"_

"The Brotherhood soldiers are dead. I'll continue with Fawkes."

Damian opened the access door to the platform. They entered a large room, used as a garage for the Enclave's Sentry bots. Their progress was blocked by a force field. Damian approached the control panel and deactivated the force field.

The area where he was standing also served as the engine room. Damian could see large turbines and generators, which were used to power the massive tracks of the mobile base. Destroying these devices would bring the platform to a standstill but would certainly not be enough to destroy it. To do this, he would have to climb to the top of the platform, up to the command post, and hope to find a way to put the base out of action. Or kill every last Enclave personnel on the mobile base crawler.

The sound of a sliding metal door was heard. Footsteps echoed over Damian. From the back of the room, Damian heard other footsteps coming closer. Five Enclave soldiers burst in front of him with flamethrowers and plasma rifles.

Damian and Fawkes dove for cover to avoid the plasma discharges flying in their direction.

"Go around them! Don't give them time to move!" shouted one of the soldiers.

Damian grabbed one of the pulse grenades and sent it towards his attackers. The electric ball hit two of the soldiers, who fried with their armor.

A soldier came up next to Fawkes, who stood up and plunged on top of the soldier. Damian saw the two remaining soldiers coming towards him. He threw a pulse grenade at them and jumped over one of the turbines to get out of their line of fire. The electric ball took out one of the soldiers and Damian took care of the second with his assault rifle.

He turned towards Fawkes. The Super Mutant was still in a battle with his opponent. He had disarmed him and grabbed him by the arms before lifting him off the ground. Fawkes threw the soldier against a wall. On impact, Damian saw the helmet caps sizzle, as if their connection had been briefly interrupted. Fawkes grabbed the Tesla cannon and used it as a sledgehammer to knock the soldier out, and his helmet broke at his temple.

"Is everything all right?" Damian asked.

"I'm fine, thank you," the mutant replied.

They looked around, making sure the soldiers were all dead. Outside, they could hear the explosions and the battle still raging.

"All right, let's search this place, get some ammunition and go upstairs."

Fawkes nodded. He headed for a maintenance area for the Sentry bots. Damian heard a small hiccup of terror. He turned to Fawkes who was standing in front of a man in a blue coverall, glasses and a grey cap.

The man did not look like a soldier. He was sitting on the ground and crawling backwards away from Fawkes. Damian joined his companion and leaned over the man who stared at him, stammering.

"Don't... Don't... Don't... Don't hurt me! I'm only working here! Please don't hurt me! I'm not a soldier!" the man cried out in a hurry.

Damian exchanged glances with Fawkes. He scanned the room and after making sure there were no soldiers in ambush, he leaned over to the man.

"What the hell are you doing here? And who are you?"

"I take care of the robots, I fix them! That's all I do! I swear!"

The man glanced fearfully at Fawkes and the corpses of the Enclave soldiers.

"You're not going to hurt me, are you?" he said, begging them with a look.

"It's up to you and how much help you can give me."

"Oh shit... Look, I'm just a mechanic, I just fix the Sentry bots and the Gutsy, that's all, I swear."

"What's your name?"

The man swallowed his saliva with difficulty and looked at Fawkes again.

"My name is Stiggs"

"All right, Stiggs, I've got some questions for you."

The mechanic got up slowly, his eyes still fixed on Fawkes and his laser gatling.

"I need to know what kind of defenses there are in the platform."

"Well, uh... There's a research site for the Deathclaws, on the floor above."

"How many?"

"I don't know, I swear. The Enclave took them out as soon as it started shooting out, but there might be one or two left. And there's robots, too."

"What kind of robots?"

Sentry and Gutsy. They're controlled by the mainframe computer, upstairs."

"Any soldiers?"

"Yes," Stiggs replied, looking at the corpses. "But they must have all come out when the attack started."

"Okay, how do I get to the satellite tower?"

"Well, it's at the top of the platform, so all you have to do is climb up. You'll have to go through the main control room before you can get to the tower. It's the most heavily guarded place on the base."

Damian stared at it for a few seconds.

"I think you're very helpful. What do you think, Fawkes?"

"I don't know," said the Mutant. "Maybe he's an enemy."

"No, no, no, no, I assure you, I'm a good guy! I've been wanting to get out of here for a long time. Look, I've helped you, I've told you everything I know!"

Damian and the Super Mutant exchanged looks. He motioned to the mechanic, who opened his eyes and stammered incomprehensible things.

"It's okay, get out of here," Damian said.

"I... Can I take my robots with me?"

He timidly pointed to two robots, which were standing backwards in the shadows. With their black paint, neither Damian nor Fawkes had noticed them. The robots, a Sentry bot and a Mister Gutsy watched Damian and Fawkes, like two frightened children.

Damian prepared a pulse grenade and nodded to Stiggs. The engineer walked away towards the two machines, spoke to them softly and together they headed for the exit ramp.

When he was certain that he was not going to come back, Damian put the grenade away and went back to the Enclave soldiers' corpses. They had come from a staircase leading to a barracks.

"It would be wiser for us to go through there than through the Deathclaws' cages," Fawkes commented.

"That's what I was thinking about," Damian replied. "We may still have Scribe Vallincourt's jammer, but I don't want to fight an army of enemy soldiers with a pack of Deathclaws on my back."

Fawkes nodded. He checked the remaining ammunition in his gatling and signaled Damian that he was ready. The young man opened the door and rushed inside.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**I'll admit that I took the easy way with the Bortherhood attack force. I guess they already moved toward Adams while Damian was looking for a way in with Hood and the Rangers, and while he, later, was on his way to the White House and the presidential metro.**

**It feels a bit like they arrived a bit too quick at the Enclave Base. Pretty sure they used the movetoqt command.**

**Until next time.**


	72. Chapter 72: Steel Rain

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Today, is the final part of the fight against the Enclave.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

The stairs led to a large hallway. On the right were the barracks for the platform staff and on the left was the exit that led to the helipads and the satellite antenna.

A squad from the Enclave arrived from that direction. Upon seeing Damian, the soldiers raised their weapons and fired. Damian and Fawkes rushed down the corridor leading to the dormitories and took cover at a fork in the corridor.

"Look out behind us!" cried Fawkes.

Damian turned his head and saw a Sentry bot pointing its minigun at them. Behind him, an Enclave soldier dressed in power armor with electric diodes, his face masked under a large hood, was holding a laser gatling.

Damian opened a sliding door and rushed inside with Fawkes, just before the laser shocks crossed the corridor. They landed in a room. Several beds, with a personal locker, and judging by the condition of the room, the soldiers occupying it had left in a hurry when the Brotherhood's assault had begun.

Damian heard the Sentry bot approaching. He pulled the pin on a pulse grenade and threw it through the open door. The machine shook and deactivated before crashing to the ground.

Fawkes glanced outside. He rotated his gatling and sent several discharges towards the soldiers. Damian heard some of them screaming just before the lasers hit them.

An oval metal object bounced off the wall and rolled past the entrance to the dormitory where they were.

"Grenade!" Damian shouted.

Fawkes jumped away from the door. A green ball of energy engulfed the corridor, covering the walls with greenish mucus. Damian approached the door. A second grenade landed at his feet. He tapped it and sent it towards the soldier who took shelter from the plasma explosion behind a wall.

As he left his cover to fire, the soldier ran into Fawkes, who was pointing the Tesla gun at him. The beam flew at full speed towards the soldier. His body convulsed as the electricity flowed through him. His face beneath his hood lit up and burned, leaving only blackened bones and a few charred pieces of flesh.

Damian felt static electricity all around him. The hair on his arms and neck was spiky and the screen of his Pip-Boy was turning off and on unevenly. He understood what Rothchild had said when he told him not to use the Tesla gun in an enclosed space.

He heard a whistle in his ear and tapped the little radio.

"_Franklin! Do you read me?"_ Reilly's voice crackled in his earpiece.

"Is everything all right?"

"_We can't hold the tower anymore! We're pulling back to the metro! Hurry up and destroy that thing!"_

Damian swore.

"We need to shut down the main terminal that controls the Enclave robots. If we shut down that computer, we should be able to relieve Reilly and the Brotherhood outside," he said.

"I'll take care of it," Fawkes said. "You'd better get on your way to the top of that base."

"Find me as soon as you're done. And be careful with the Tesla cannon. Don't get fried with it."

The Super Mutant wore his best smile and walked away towards the dead soldier and disappeared into a corridor. Damian turned back towards the exit for the top of the mobile base crawler.

The door to the outside was at the top of a small stairwell. Damian came out onto a small metal footbridge. From there he had a good view of the Wasteland and the battle raging all around him.

The Vertibirds were flying high in the sky like birds of prey. The Brotherhood must have shot many of them, judging by the burning wrecks everywhere. The pilots also seemed more hesitant to approach the ground.

Damian walked over the bridge to a stairway, bringing him near the fuel tanks for the Vertibirds. Large oval or round tanks surrounded by pipes and pipelines. Damian left the footbridge and took cover behind one of the pipelines. Further on, Enclave soldiers took up positions on the railings, and shot at the silhouettes of the Brotherhood soldiers.

Damian advanced on the platform, going from cover to cover, and constantly keeping an eye on the enemy soldiers. A laser passed within inches of him and he took cover behind a pile of boxes. A laser turret had targeted him and had just alerted a group of Enclave soldiers and a Sentry bot.

"Shit," Damian hissed.

He could hear the bullets from the robot's minigun rattling and whistling over his head, and the lasers and plasma discharges crackling against his cover. Suddenly, he heard a loud bang and the ground vibrated. Damian ventured to look over his cover and saw that the Sentry bot was disabled. He could see the soldiers of the Enclave getting up painfully in their large power armors, and he noticed that a small part of the railing at the edge of the platform was missing.

The mobile base had been hit by a stray rocket. Damian took the opportunity to destroy the turrets and throw a pulse grenade at the Enclave soldiers who roasted with their armors as the electric shock fried the internal component of the power armor. Damian resumed his advance and arrived in front of one of the platform's helipads. A Vertibird was just taking off after dropping off a squad.

Damian barely had time to eliminate one of the soldiers before taking cover from the hail of plasma discharges raining down on him. A new Vertibird approached. It landed on the helipad and its side doors opened, unleashing a new squad of enemy soldiers.

As the aircraft began to take off, a long beam of electricity passed through it. The Vertibird burst into flames and fell heavily on the platform. The shock wave vibrated beneath Damian's feet and threw some of the Enclave's members off the platform. The flaming crew exited the aircraft by screaming and gesticulating in all directions. Damian raised his head and saw the remaining soldiers rushing to their comrades to help them or to put out the flames that were devouring them, and he took the opportunity to eliminate them.

He heard footsteps behind his back and turned around, pointing his rifle in front of him. He saw Fawkes approaching with the Tesla gun on his shoulder. The Super Mutant watched the charred wreckage and the soldiers of the Enclave, some of whom finished burning alive, with a satisfied look.

Damian never thought he would be so happy to see a Super Mutant and he lowered his gun.

"Thank you. Were you able to disable the computer that controls the Enclave's robots?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid I couldn't find any way to destroy this place."

Damian nodded. He turned his gaze to the hangars and buildings on the base, still in the throes of heavy fighting.

"Reilly? Are you still there? Fawkes destroyed the computer that controls the robots in the Enclave."

"_Glad to hear it."_

"You think you can hold out?"

"Now that the bastards don't have any more robots, we should be able to take a breather. We're still at the metro exit, but the Brotherhood is gaining ground all over the place. Hurry up and blow this thing up."

Damian cut the transmission and turned to the large satellite dish. He was afraid he would see it move at any moment and hear the whistle of missiles descending from orbit to vitrify the area. He and Fawkes approached the antenna, eliminating the last defenders, hidden in a small bunker at the foot of the structure.

The inside of the satellite antenna was crammed with telemetry, measuring instruments, computers and all the things possible to use a weapon system in orbit over a planet. The place was guarded by a small group of soldiers, mostly officers with plasma guns.

Damian and Fawkes climbed up a stairway to the top of the satellite control center. One of the officers saw them and tried to enter a command on one of the terminals, but Damian eliminated him with a burst to the chest. The other officers, although trapped, had no apparent intention of surrendering and Damian and Fawkes had to eliminate them.

Damian went around the room, looking for a terminal capable of activating a self-destruct or a system to tell the rest of the Enclave troops that their mobile base was in enemy hands and that they had to stop fighting. Damian found none of these. All the devices he saw were only used to operate the satellite. Fawkes had destroyed the base's mainframe computer, responsible for controlling the enemy robots, but that was not enough, and it would certainly take an astronomical number of explosives to destroy this place.

He walked towards the main computer, a tall tower that reminded him strangely of the ZAX unit at Raven Rock.

The Enclave's space weapon was called _"Bradley-Hercules"_. Just before he died, the officer in charge of the site, had armed the missiles, and designated a target. Damian felt the structure shake and guessed that the antenna had started to move. He typed on the computer keyboard and a satellite map appeared on the screen. Damian was frightened to see that the map was showing the Citadel.

In a corner of the screen, a countdown timer was scrolling, indicating just over 10 minutes before the strike.

"Tristan, do you read me?" Damian said, grabbing his radio.

The radio was giving him static, and Damian punched one of the computers in the room that had been turned off.

"Damn it, answer!"

"_This is Pride actual, send your message. Over."_

"Paladin! We must evacuate the Citadel now!"

"_What, but why?"_

"The Enclave has locked the satellite on the Citadel! Tell Lyons to get out of there now! The shot is in... 7 minutes and 45 seconds!"

Damian dropped the radio and approached the computer. He closed the satellite map and surveyed the options, desperately looking for an override command. On the radio, Tristan's voice informed him that he had relayed the information to the Citadel. Damian did not take the time to respond.

"Come on, come on!" he pessimistically scrolled through the information on the computer.

There was nothing there. No commands to cancel the shot. He turned to the officer lying on the ground at the foot of the computer and began to search it, hoping to find something, anything that would allow him to cancel the firing sequence.

He found nothing. He got up slowly and displayed the satellite map. The countdown timer indicated three minutes to firing. He watched helplessly as the numbers scrolled by. Tristan's voice screamed into the radio, imploring him to answer.

Damian grabbed his assault rifle, pulled the breech and pointed it at the computer. He stopped his gesture, realizing that the chances of canceling the missile strike by destroying the computer were close to zero. He put the gun down and approached the keyboard. He managed to find a command, showing a satellite map of the Capital Wasteland. Damian opened the map. He searched for a few seconds and displayed on the screen, the location of Adams' base, and the approximate location of the mobile base crawler.

Damian looked at the timer and sighed. He approached fingers to the keyboard and froze.

"_I have to do it,"_ he thought. _"There is no other way."_

Slowly, he entered the coordinates and the computer asked him if the entry was correct, informing him that the shot could not be cancelled, and that the countdown would be reset.

He grabbed his radio.

"Tristan, I've found a way to deflect the shot."

"_Huh? What are you...,"_

The Paladin left his sentence hanging.

"_The Citadel is almost completely evacuated, don't do this!"_

Damian did not answer and turned to Fawkes.

"You should leave while you have time."

The Super Mutant slowly shook his head and smiled.

"No, my friend. I stay with you until the end."

Damian smiled faintly and nodded in thanks. He confirmed the target change order and the countdown stopped, only to reset itself a few seconds later to five minutes.

"Looks like this time it really is the end," said Fawkes sadly as he sat on the floor.

Damian nodded and sat down in turn. He faced the screen and watched the numbers roll by. His mind went blank. Just as he had done when he stepped to the Project Purity control console, he remembered his life in the Vault, his adventures and encounters in the Wasteland. He thought about Sarah, and silently prayed for her to come out coma. To Moira, who would never finish her book.

He thought about Amata.

"_I have the art of making promises I can't keep,"_ he thought bitterly.

And he thought about Alice Hood. He closed his eyes and sighed. Damian liked the young Brotherhood scribe, and he got along well with her and, for a second, he wished he could have told her goodbye.

He stared at the screen. Only three minutes left before the shot. It would take no more than one or two minutes for the missiles to enter the atmosphere and hit the mobile platform.

"_Guess there won't be a mysterious two weeks coma after this,"_ he thought.

Suddenly they heard the sound of a Vertibird landing through a door they had not noticed before. Damian and Fawkes plunged to their weapons. If it had been able to modify the satellite's target, the Enclave was able to do so as well, and it was going to make sure no one got in the way.

The door opened to a silhouette in power armor. Damian recognized the Brotherhood's T-45d armor. The figure looked at them in turn and shouted at them.

"What the hell are you doing? Come on!"

Damian and Fawkes looked at each other. An alarm began to sound in the room. Damian looked at the screen and saw that the missiles were being launched. A second countdown had begun. As supposed, the impact would happen in just over two minutes.

Damian, Fawkes and the Brotherhood soldier left the room, and arrived on a helipad, where a Vertibird, stamped with the emblem of the Brotherhood of Steel, was waiting for them. The side doors were open, and Damian recognized the faces of some of the members of the Lyons' Pride, including one he never imagined he would see here.

"Sarah!" Damian cried.

Damian could not believe his eyes. The Sentinel may have had a thinner face than he remembered, and her blonde hair needed a cut too, but it was her.

"No time for chitchat!" the young woman yelled to cover the roar of the engines. "Get in the damn thing before we get vitrified!"

Damian and Fawkes did not need for her to repeat. They jumped into the aircraft, followed by the Brotherhood soldier. The Vertibird gently rose into the air and quickly moved away from the mobile base crawler.

A large white flash and a hissing sound attracted their attention. More flashes of light pierced the cloud layer as the missiles entered the atmosphere. Damian congratulated himself inwardly for having adjusted their trajectory well and observed the missiles falling towards the huge mobile base, trying not to think about the fact that he was in there a few seconds ago. As at the relay station, about 30 warheads were heading towards their target.

"Hang on, it's going to be a shaky ride," the pilot said.

The shock wave was terrifying. Damian felt the aircraft shake and vibrate on all sides and grabbed his seat with all his might to avoid being ejected.

"Yeah! Take that, you bastards!"

A wave of exclamations of joy swept through the members of the Brotherhood, and quickly overtook Damian, as they saw the base of the Enclave fall apart before their eyes. Missiles were exploding on the surface and around the base. Several of them pierced the metal hull and exploded inside the platform, resulting in a huge detonation and a great column of black smoke.

The Brotherhood Vertibird revolved around the smoking wreckage, leaving its passengers free to admire the devastating power of the orbital strike. The aircraft slowly passed over the hangars. The battle had cost the lives of many people, both in the Enclave and in the Brotherhood.

Damian's eardrums were buzzing from the horrific explosion, but he thought he heard a woman's voice in the crook of his ear.

"Reilly?" called Damian.

"_Damn it, I've been trying to reach you for over ten minutes!"_ the Ranger commander answered. _"Are you all right?"_

"I'm good, and Fawkes too."

"_You scared the living shit out of us. At least when you want to blow something up, you go for it. It's better for everyone if you never have nuclear weapons in your hands. Anyway, we'll see you back at the Citadel for the fiesta, Ranger."_

Damian unplugged his earpiece and turned to Sarah.

"What's up? Surprised to see me?" asked the young woman with a broad smile.

"I was beginning to lose hope of seeing you awake. Are you all right?" Damian answered.

"I'm fine, thanks to your friend, and the Pride."

Sarah turned to Fawkes, sitting in the middle of the Vertibird.

"I never thought I'd say this to a representative of your kind, but... Thank you."

Fawkes put on his best smile and bowed his head forward, as he used to do when he was talking to people.

Damian turned towards the base below. Most of the Enclave Vertibirds had been destroyed and he could still, despite the roar of the engines and the buzzing in his ears, hear sporadic shooting in the hangar area.

Sarah turned to the pilot and ordered him to drop them off at the control tower, which the Brotherhood had obviously recaptured.

The pilot landed the aircraft a bit abruptly, as he probably had not had enough time to practice flying such a thing. Damian and the others disembarked. In front of them were the hangars, where they could hear some battle sounds.

Damian turned his head towards the mobile base crawler while Sarah barked orders to her men. The huge column of smoke continued to rise in the air. Ash from the wreckage began to fall around them, adding an apocalyptic touch to the scene.

They noticed a group of the Brotherhood moving into position in front of one of the buildings on the base with walls streaked with laser strikes and large caliber cartridges. An amalgam of bodies of soldiers from the Enclave and the Brotherhood stood in front of the building.

"It looks like our guys are almost done cleaning out the last pockets of resistance," commented one of the soldiers.

Damian saw two members of the Brotherhood kneeling on the ground and pointing a rocket launcher at the door of the building.

An Enclave officer slowly left the building. His prestigious grey uniform was in tatters. His head was covered with dark red bandages and his right arm was in a sling. He raised one hand in the air, while the soldiers of the Brotherhood aimed at him. The officer stood still for a few moments, and Damian saw him trembling at the sight of all those soldiers in power armor, their laser guns pointed at him.

Sarah had also asked her men to aim at the officer. Damian imitated them, and the moment he placed the man in his sights, he realized that this man was not a threat. For the first time since he had encounter them at Project Purity, he did not see the Enclave as an enemy or a threat. They were beaten. Their main base in the mountain was a pile of smoking rubble. The mobile base crawler had been nuked and its army was dead or fleeing.

Damian lowered his weapon when a detonation sounded. The officer collapsed to the ground, hit in the back by a laser beam.

"Jesus Christ, they shot him!"

"Victory or death!" screamed a voice into the building.

Sarah was about to give the order to fire, when a second shot rang out in the building.

"What the hell are they doing in there?" Sarah whispered.

Damian noticed movement in the building's windows. The next moment, a panicked and imploring voice addressed the members of the Brotherhood.

"Don't shoot, please! We surrender!"

The soldiers of the Brotherhood exchanged looks of suspicion. They all pointed their weapons at the windows and the main door of the building.

Slowly and silently, soldiers, officers, pilots of the destroyed Vertibirds, mechanics, doctors, scientists, appeared in silence. All of them had a wounded arm or leg. The soldiers had abandoned their power armor and found themselves in black fatigues or coverall with their faces uncovered. They advanced towards the soldiers of the Brotherhood, hands raised, or helping some of their comrades to walk or carrying makeshift stretchers with dying men and women inside.

"What do we do with them, Sentinel?"

Damian turned his head towards Sarah and one of the soldiers who had materialized next to her. Tristan was there, too, and seemed ready to give the order to execute all the Enclave soldiers who were still alive.

"Round them up outside the base and keep an eye on them. There's been enough killing for today."

It was impossible to know, under the thick helmets of power armor, whether Lyons' men were relieved or disappointed at having to keep the prisoners alive, and whether or not Tristan disagreed, he did not show it and simply repeated the order to his men. Damian watched as the Brotherhood searched the soldiers and he watched the small procession of men and women prisoners march out of the base.

Sarah headed towards the Vertibird. One of the troopers handed her a radio. After a few seconds, she put the device down and turned towards Damian and the others.

"We're going back to the Citadel. Elder Lyons wants to see us as soon as possible. Tristan, are you taking over here?"

"Don't worry, we'll clean up."

"Looks like the war is over, guys," Sarah said.

Damian climbed aboard the Vertibird, followed by Fawkes who settled into a corner and tried to take up as little space as possible.

"I think I have made a habit of saving your ass," said Sarah, sitting next to Damian.

"Well, I'm glad you did, by the way, how did you know I was there?"

_(La Citadel, 40 minutes earlier)_

Sarah Lyons opened her eyes. The cracked ceiling of the Citadel infirmary slowly appeared to her. She stood up, massaging her head. Her memories were confused, and it took her a few minutes to gather her thoughts. She remembered the assault on Project Purity with the Pride, Damian Franklin, his friend Super Mutant, the Reilly's Rangers and Liberty Prime. She saw herself in the purifier's control room, ready to explode, seeing Damian Franklin in the irradiated control room. She had thrown herself at the command of the door, trying to open it to get him out, shouting at him to listen to her, begging him to give her the activation code so that she could activate the Purifier in his place. The next moment, Damian had entered the code and she had fell unconscious.

Sarah looked around and searched for the young man. She was alone in the infirmary. She did not know how long it had been since her coma. An hour? Two days? Several weeks? She began to fear the worst. Had the Enclave counterattacked? What was the situation outside, and more importantly, had Damian made it out alive?

As she got up, she felt a multitude of wires stuck to her and connected to a computer. As she pulled them out, she heard a continuous ringing sound, a very high-pitched beep, and realized that it was the sound of a medical monitoring device.

The door of the room opened on the fly on a Mister Gutsy robot and two men in white coats covering a Brotherhood uniform busted in the infirmary. The two doctors looked at the device that kept ringing and Sarah, sitting on her bed.

"Sentinel Lyons! You're awake!" cried one of the doctors with a broad smile.

He turned to his companion and sent him to fetch Elder Lyons.

"How are you feeling, Sentinel?"

"What happened? Did the purifier explode? What's the situation with the Enclave?"

"Don't get too agitated, you've been in a coma for almost a month now."

"Sarah!"

Lyons entered the Infirmary. Seeing his daughter awake and visibly healthy, he rushed to her and took her in his arms. Surprised by this gesture, so contrary to the military ethics of the Brotherhood between superiors and subordinates, Sarah did not know how to react. She ends up hugging her father, a little embarrassed.

"Are you okay? How long have you been awake?"

"Sir," said the doctor. "I'd like to examine the Sentinel, make sure she's fully recovered."

"I don't have time for that!" cried Sarah. "Father, what's the situation on the front line?"

Lyons stepped back and signaled the doctors and the robot to wait outside. As soon as they closed the door, he turned to his daughter and explained to her everything that had happened since the Jefferson Memorial was taken. Upon learning that Damian was still alive, Sarah let out a sigh of relief.

With her father's story finished, Sarah stood up. She stumbled and barely caught up in bed. Her legs, which had been immobile for almost a month, could no longer support her weight properly.

"Sarah, you need to rest. You're in no condition to take part in the fighting."

"There's no way I'm letting the Pride and Franklin fight alone!"

"Sentinel Lyons," thundered the old Elder.

"Forgive me, Father. I've always obeyed your orders up to now, even when I disagreed with you, but now I must disobey."

Lyons stared at his daughter with all the authority of the Elder Chapter of the Brotherhood. After a few moments, he sighed and lowered his head.

"Your power armor is in your quarters. Just take the captured Vertibird with you. I was going to send him as a backup with a medical team and supplies."

_(Adams Air Force Base, present time)_

"So, you jumped into your armor, climbed into the Vertibird, and came here?"

Sarah nodded silently.

"That's right. We had just dropped off the medical team and ammunition when the pilot received a message from Paladin Tristan begging us to come rescue you at the top of the Enclave's mobile platform. I guess you owe him a crate of beer."

Damian nodded, even though a crate of beer would be far from sufficient in his opinion to thank the Paladin.

"You're still going to have to break that bad habit of always wanting to sacrifice yourself."

"If you think I enjoy playing the hero."

"Well, you should have stayed in your Vault in that case," said the Sentinel with a slight smirk on her face.

"I liked you better when you were in a coma," joked Damian.

Sarah looked at him, raising an eyebrow before shrugging her shoulders.

"More seriously," Damian said. "Thanks for saving my life, again."

"Well, we are on a score of 3 to 1," Sarah said.

"I didn't know it was a competition."

"Joke aside, it's me who should thank you."

Damian turned to Sarah, confused by the words of the Sentinel.

"What do you mean?"

"Without your family, we would still be drinking irradiated water, and without your sacrifice at the Jefferson Memorial, the whole site would be one big crater, so I want to thank you. But don't pull a stunt like Project Purity on me again!"

"Can't promise anything," Damian smiled.

* * *

**While playing the game again, I basically realized that targetting the Mobile Base Crawler was basically the same as activating Project Purity. You push the button and just watch yourself die, instead this time it's not from radiation, but you get bombed to oblivion by an orbital nuke, so... Guess the LW is a pro at sacrificing himself for the good of the others.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Nex time, will be about the consequences of the war with the Enclave and a little visit in downtown D.C. now that everything is over.**

**Until next time.**


	73. Chapter 73: Marooned

**Hello everyone,hope you are doing well.**

**Today, the Enclave as been defeated and Damian and the other are now celebrating it.**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

The Vertibird landed heavily in the center of the Citadel. Sarah slid the door and Damian heard a hubbub of applause and shouts of joy. Astonished, he looked at all the scribes, soldiers, and initiates, gathered in the courtyard, who cheered him.

He looked at Sarah with incomprehension and saw that she too was applauding and smiling at him. A strange feeling began to overwhelm him, and he could not help smiling back.

Damian jumped from the Vertibird and immediately the members of the Brotherhood closest to him stepped forward to congratulate him and shake his hand.

Damian did not know what to say or what to do, so he just put a smirk on his face and accepted handshakes and back slaps. Never in his life had he been congratulated so much. The people of Megaton had all been grateful that he had defused the bomb, and he had received a copious amount of thanks for activating Project Purity, but he had never been the center of attention, surrounded by a crowd cheering and congratulating him.

The Star-Paladin Cross appeared in front of him. Her usually so inexpressive face showed a slight, almost imperceptible smile.

"When I escorted you twenty years ago with your father, I had no idea that you would become a formidable warrior. I am happy to count you as one of us."

"Thank you," Damian replied, who had no idea what else to say.

Damian received a few more slaps on the back and handshakes, until Lyons appeared at Cross' side.

The applause and cheering quickly stopped and all eyes turned to the old Elder. The silence lasted a few seconds before Lyons spoke.

"When you came to us after the fall of Project Purity, I was suspicious of your motives, and even more so of your methods. I didn't know at the time whether you were acting out of revenge, cruelty, or to continue your parents' mission. However, the doubts I had about you all disappeared during the battle of Project Purity, and now that, thanks to you, the Enclave is in ruins, words fail me."

Emotion pierced through the Elder's voice and Damian felt an immense sense of pride swelling in his chest.

"I am proud to consider you a member of the Brotherhood and I can assure you that what you have done will be recorded as a historic moment in our Chapter."

Lyons looked at Damian and displayed a very solemn air.

"On behalf of the Brotherhood of Steel, and the free inhabitants of the Capita Wasteland, I thank you."

Damian heard a clash of boots hitting the ground violently, and that of a fist hitting a steel plate. He looked around him and saw that the soldiers, scribes, initiates, mechanics, and the two pilots of the Vertibird, had all stood at attention for him.

Damian looked at them, moved, with a big smile on his lips. The members of the Brotherhood remained thus for a few moments, until the cheers and cries of joy resumed. Damian heard Cross ask Lyons if she should restore calm, but the old Elder shook his head.

"Let them enjoy their victory a little," he said. "Tomorrow, new challenges await them."

The euphoria and joy of victory lasted only for a few moments, when the first convoys of wounded and dead arrived. The Brotherhood had suffered heavy losses, more than when Project Purity was taken, and the inner courtyard of the Citadel had served as a gigantic triage center.

The wounded that could not be transported had remained at Adams Air Force Base, with the bulk of the Brotherhood's medical services and a large contingent of soldiers present to watch over the prisoners and ensure that no small, isolated group would attempted a last stand.

Those who were able to walk, who had only minor injuries or did not require urgent medical assistance, were repatriated to the Citadel. The Vertibird stolen by Damian had rotated between Adams Base and the Citadel throughout the rest of the day.

Damian was in one of the upper floors of the Citadel, which was laid out as a dormitory, looking through a hole in the wall, at the courtyard and its procession of nurses and wounded. He had spent the rest of the day helping to transport the members of the Brotherhood to the infirmary or to provide care when the infirmary was full.

Only the less seriously injured, those who had received laser or plasma burns or shrapnel, were left. They waited patiently for their bandages to be changed or to hear from a comrade who had been taken to the infirmary.

In many corners of the courtyard, campfires were lit, with soldiers and lightly wounded around them, drinking a beer or stronger alcohol, laughing and toasting their victory, toasting their missing comrades and celebrating the end of the war with the Enclave.

Footsteps caught Damian's attention. He looked over his shoulder and saw Sarah who had just entered the room, her arms loaded with beer bottles. She had swapped her imposing power amor for civilian attire, the same one she had worn when she had picked him up from Minefield a few weeks earlier.

She leaned against the wall next to Damian and offered him a bottle, which he accepted.

"It's weird, isn't it? To think it's finally over," she said.

"Do you really think it's over?" Damian asked.

"My father says we'll have to watch the borders of the Capital Wasteland to prevent reinforcements from the Enclave, but I think we'll be safe for a while, considering the loss and damage we've inflicted on them."

Damian's thoughts drifted to the image of the wounded Enclave soldiers surrendering to the Brotherhood troops.

"I hope you're right," Damian replied.

The Sentinel nodded silently and took a big sip of her beer. In the courtyard, a group of soldiers had grabbed musical instruments and started to play a jazz tune. Several soldiers and scribes moved towards the center of the courtyard and began to dance, entertaining the wounded. Damian looked at them smiling and saw Donovan, Brick and Fawkes in the middle of the improvised dance floor, encouraging the others to join them. He also saw Reilly and Butcher, a little aside, sitting on a bench, watching the crowd as they talked and held hands.

Sarah was tapping her hand gently on the concrete ledge of the wall at the rhythm of the music. The music ended, and several of the soldiers and scribes sang a joyful song, all singing falser than each other, which was quickly taken up by all the people in the courtyard and by the musicians.

"You know, I was wrong about you."

Damian turned to the young woman, frowning.

"When we met the first time, at the Chevy Chase metro exit, I thought you were just one more Wasteland asshole, and that as soon as things started to heat up a bit, you'd run off and leave us deep in the shit. Well, I'm glad I was wrong."

A flash of sadness passed over the young woman's face and Damian suddenly felt uncomfortable.

"The whole Brotherhood thinks very highly of you, and so do I. Sometimes I think if things had been different, we might have been able to make friends."

"Sarah, I think of you as my friend, you know," Damian replied.

The young woman looked at him, astonished. Damian shrugged his shoulders slightly and smiled at her.

"When Project Purity was captured by the Enclave, and I rushed what was left of my father's and Doctor Li's team here, you supported me to launch an assault before the Enclave could reinforce their position. You agreed to train me, as one of your own. You tracked me all the way to Minefield and you saved my life several times. After all that, it would be strange to say we're not friends."

Sarah started to smile and finished her beer. They each opened a new beer and toasted each other.

"What will become of the Enclave soldiers you took as prisoners?" Damian asked.

"For now, orders are to keep them under surveillance at Adams. I don't know what we're going to do with them next, but... I hope we can find something other than a massive firing squad," Sarah answered.

Damian nodded silently, strangely relieved not to see the hundred or so prisoners end up like those in the road tunnel where he had found Tristan after his coma, a bullet in the back of the head and their bodies abandoned in a dark corner.

"Tell me, Franklin."

Damian turned to Sarah who stared at him with a shy smile on her face.

"Can you dance?"

Damian looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"Uh... Well..."

Sarah grabbed Damian and together they began to dance to the rhythm of the music coming from the courtyard.

"So, what are you going to do?" Sarah asked.

Damian did not know what to answer. The whole world opened to him, just as it had when he had left the Vault.

"I don't know," he said with a shrug. "What about you?"

Sarah sighed deeply.

"I wish I could take a breather, but my father and Rothchild already have several missions for us, so for now, I'm enjoying the little bit of calm I have before getting back in the saddle. There's still the Super Mutant threat to take out, and a lot of pre-war artifacts to recover between here and Virginia, so..."

"No time to rest, huh?"

"No, there isn't," Sarah smiled.

The music changed rhythm and it became more difficult for them to keep their steps to the song.

"I think we should join the others," said Sarah, looking at her empty beer. "I think that if people find out that I'm taking the attention of the hero of the day, they're going to hold a grudge for a long time."

Damian nodded and followed Sarah into the courtyard. On the way, he noticed Scribe Hood, all alone, watching the court and the jubilant soldiers.

"Go ahead, I'll join you," he said to Sarah.

The Sentinel looked at him and then at Hood. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders and walked away.

Damian approached the young scribe. She seemed pensive, staring at a group of soldiers singing and drinking.

"Scribe Hood?"

The young woman was startled when she heard Damian.

"Oh, it is you. I didn't hear you come in."

"Won't you join the others?"

"No, I... I needed a moment alone."

Damian looked down, and noticed the young scribe clutching some Brotherhood identification plates in her hands. Hood noticed that he had his eyes fixed on the holotags and turned them in her hands.

"These are... Well, they were Michael's. Knight Berry."

"Oh, I see."

"You know, you remind me a little of him," Hood said.

"What do you mean?"

Hood smiled sadly and kept looking at the holotags while she talked.

"You have that same determination to get things done. As did he."

The young scribe read the information on the holo-plates.

"Were… Were you two were close?"

Damian sensed he was venturing onto a slippery slope and immediately regretted his question. When Hood had seen Berry's body in the cave, she had not cried or screamed or anything. She had just looked at him, as if she could not analyze, understand or accept what she was seeing.

"Yes," the young woman replied. "As close as two people who grew up together in the middle of the Wastes can be."

Damian nodded silently. She paused slightly and Damian felt that she was holding back her tears.

"He… He was always there for me, whether it was before joining the Brotherhood or during Paladin Gunny training and military life. I've..."

Hood raised her head and Damian saw the young woman's green eyes fogged with tears.

"I wish he was here to celebrate the victory with us," she managed to articulate as the tears began to flow down her cheeks. "I keep telling myself that he died because of me, that it's my fault! It's my fault! I couldn't open that fucking door, and because of that, he died! I killed him! I killed my best friend, and I left him in this cave!"

The young scribe burst into tears. Damian had no idea how to react. Seeing the young woman in this state broke his heart. He remembered clearly wishing to see Hood one more time before going to battle or dying, and now, she was there, crying and Damian had no idea what to say.

Hood continued to cry. She took a few steps and buried her head in Damian's shoulder and cried.

"Alice," said Damian softly. "You are not responsible for his death. If you want someone to blame so badly, direct your anger at the Super Mutants, or at Vault-Tec, or at those who brought us into this world, or at me who couldn't open that door or see the trap either, and did not insist on going in there alone if it makes you feel better. But don't blame yourself."

Damian felt that the young scribe briefly stopped crying and he did not know if it was because he had called her by her first name or because what he had just said was the stupidest thing in the world.

Slowly, Alice Hood raised her hands and grabbed the sleeves of his sweat.

"Can... Can you... Can you... Can you stay with me for a moment, please?" the young scribe asked, crying.

Damian nodded silently. He felt the young woman softly tightening her grip on his arms.

"Of course," Damian answered. "I'm not going anywhere."

Five days had passed since the destruction of the Enclave's mobile base crawler. For the next two days Damian had remained at the Citadel, where his honorary membership in the Brotherhood was made official during a ceremony in the inner courtyard of the Citadel. Damian had feared that this new status was just a cover-up to make him a full member of the Brotherhood. Lyons, supported by Sarah, had made it clear, however, that Damian's efforts, whether it was the destruction of Raven Rock or his choice to risk his life to activate Project Purity, deserved that he could decide whether or not to join the Brotherhood.

Damian had declined Tristan's offer to join his unit but remained in close contact with him and the Pride. During these two days, he had continued to train with Sarah and the Pride and had even been asked by Paladin Gunny to assist him in training his recruits. Damian had also wanted to talk to Alice Hood. After she had cried on his shoulder the night of the victory against the Enclave, they had joined the others in the courtyard and the young woman had vanished. Every time he had wanted to see her or talk to her, he had learnt that she was busy, or he could simply not find her.

Damian had then moved back to Megaton and had finally gathered up the courage to tell Moira that he was ready to start researching her book again. The saleswoman had been overjoyed and had immediately sent him on a mission to every corner of the Wasteland and Damian had taken the opportunity to explore downtown D.C. with Fawkes.

The Brotherhood of Steel, for its part, had focused to the Super Mutants occupying the ruins, and had chased a large part of them back to Vault 87, which, in barely five days, was a real feat. Exploit that Three Dog had, along with the great victory of Lyons' forces over the Enclave, hastened to bring to all ears in the Wastes.

The eccentric presenter also recalled all of Damian's exploits, from his sacrifice in the control room of Project Purity, to the destruction of Raven Rock, and of course the defusing of the Megaton's atomic bomb. Every time he mentioned this episode, Three Dog always referred to the toaster in his studio, which seemed to be broken. Damian had been back to Galaxy News Radio to fix the DJ's toaster, and when Three Dog had seen him arrive and heard him explain why he had come, he had burst out laughing, informing him that everything was working fine in his studio. Three Dog had then compensated Damian by offering him a copy of his radio recordings of his adventures in the Wasteland, as well as a few musical holotapes.

During his visit on Galaxy News, Damian had bumped into an old man. Three Dog had introduced him as the real Herbert Dashwood, also known as _"Daring Dashwood"_, an old adventurer. The latter had come to give Three Dog new holotapes about his adventures. Damian had then learned that Dashwood was a resident of Tenpenny Tower. Damian had been a little reassured to see that the place seemed to be doing well since his last visit and that the tower was now run by Dashwood and one of Gustavo's former mercenaries and that they had started a business relationship with a group of ghouls in a metro station near the tower.

Contrary to what Damian had thought when he ventured back into the ruins, the place left by the Super Mutants had not been occupied by Raiders or any other warring groups in the vicinity. The ruins of D.C. had become a concrete and steel desert, populated only by a few scavengers, by Brotherhood patrols and contingents and packs of feral ghouls and wild animals.

Damian had been able to walk through the streets of the ruined capital without running the risk of running into a group of mutants or attackers, although he was constantly on the lookout and had his rifle ready.

Around the metro exits, he had watched the empty telephone booths, imagining tourists or businessmen lining up to call their families or wives. In shopping districts, he had imagined people queuing to enter the bank, or walking through the streets, lingering in front of shop windows decorated for Halloween or Christmas.

He had visited the colorful houses in Seward Square, depicting pre-war American family life, with children playing in the living room, while parents sat on the sofa in front of the television. He had entered the small shops near Seward's star-shaped square. He had seen the displays in some of the shops, still full, radios, televisions, computers, still intact. He had stumbled upon bookstores still full of books spared from the atomic flames, shops selling video and audio tapes, luxury clothing stores.

Near the industrial area of Takoma Park, he had been able to get an idea of what pre-war entertainment could look like. Bars with shelves still stocked with liquor bottles, concert halls, musical instrument and tape stores, in which he had took for his own pleasure dozens of holotapes. He had listened to all of them and sent them to Three Dog. The DJ had copied them all and sent them back to Damian with a word of thanks.

He had walked around the area of L'Enfant Plaza and its great glass pyramid, visited the Capitol Post Newspaper headquarters and read articles from more than two centuries ago. He had imagined himself entering a barber's shop and explaining what haircut and beard he wanted. He had walked through the doors of a small restaurant and sat down on one of the benches. He had imagined ordering a meal and a coffee, then crossing the street in the shade of the tall building at the corner of the intersection, and then going to sit at a desk.

In a parking lot, at the foot of a hotel, Damian had sat inside a car. He had imagined himself driving, parking in front of one of the houses in the neighborhood and going inside.

He had been to the train station in D.C. and looked at the large signs with the train departure and arrival times. All he had to do was get a ticket from the ticket seller, still in his box, get on the first train and see where it would take him. He had closed his eyes and imagined the buzzing activity in the huge station concourse before it became forever silent.

He had climbed onto the roof of a building and watched the endless lines of wrecked vehicles stretching through the streets. He had tried to imagine, the sound of all those engines running, the horns honking, the pre-war radio stations turned on in the cars. There, he had found a small chair, and a crate of beer with a skeleton next to it.

Damian had sat with Fawkes and shared a few drinks. While he was there contemplating the ruins of D.C., now deserted by the Super Mutants, Damian felt like he was the last man on Earth.

He had noticed that the old world had frozen, 200 years ago. An oppressive silence hung over the dead city.

The shops were still occupied by managers and customers. Young couples, or mothers, would come in to pick out a Halloween costume, the remains of which laying on the floor covered with dirt and dust.

Car dealerships were always open, with their displays and customers in the offices still holding flyers in their skeletal hands.

The office buildings were still crowded, with employees still in their chairs, facing their computers, typewriters, or in the meeting rooms discussing the results of the last quarter.

Passers-by were still occupying the sidewalks, their gaze turned to the cracked asphalt or the sky, instead of the destroyed shop windows.

Car traffic jams, whose occupants always had to discuss, silently, the evening meal, the approaching Halloween party, that woman or man they had met the day before.

The ambulance ballet in front of the hospitals was always there. The downtown dining rooms were still occupied by customers, desperately waiting for their coffee. The schools, in the middle of class.

Damian was standing on the threshold of a classroom, still intact. An elementary school in downtown D.C., squeezed between two office buildings, so that parents could keep an eye on their children during recess.

The classroom was decorated with small drawings, hung on the walls, representing smiling pumpkins, witches on their broomsticks, accompanied by a black cat with big round yellow eyes.

In all, about twenty small desks, neat and tidy, in rows of four, facing a large table and a blackboard, where the date of the day could always be read: _"23 October 2077"_.

Under each table, a small skeleton, huddled up on itself, next to a schoolbag eaten away by mold, and still wearing the remains of a pair of trousers or a small dress.

Damian looked at each of the little corpses and at their teacher's body, also hidden under his desk. While elsewhere in the city the bodies seemed to have not care for the war that was coming their way, the students in this class had taken refuge under their little desks, as they had been taught. Then they had waited, with their eyes closed and their hands covering their ears, for the bomb to fall on the city, explode, and then for their parents, the police or the firemen, to come to their rescue, whisper to them that all was well and take them home.

But no one had come. The desk that was supposed to protect them in the event of a collapse had become a coffin and could do nothing about the radioactive fallout.

Damian looked at the little skeletons. Some were holding hands, others were holding their bags tightly. What had they been thinking about when the sirens had sounded? What were they thinking about when the warheads fell? What had they been thinking about when Death had enveloped them?

Damian moved into one of the small offices, being careful not to disturb the human remains at his feet. He looked at the room and tried to imagine, the life of these pre-war children.

They got up in the morning, had breakfast with their parents. Their mother would make pancakes and heat up the coffee water. Their father would read the newspaper and listen with a distracted ear to the radio or television.

Then they would leave, one for school, the others for work. Mom would hug her daughter or son. Dad would quickly take them in his arms. One last goodbye with a handwave and the children would walk into the school yard, greet their friends, say hello to the teacher, and cast a furtive glance at the car that was already pulling away in the street.

Classes would end, the bell would ring, and the children would run back to their parents and then go home. There, they would go up to their rooms, do their homework and then go downstairs to eat, and everyone would tell their story of the day. Dad had gotten a promotion, Mom had finished writing an article, and the children had learned more about the geography of the world.

The children would go upstairs to their rooms, play for a while, and then go to bed.

On one of the desks was an open notebook. The pages were blacked out, but some parts were still legible. Damian bent down and looked through the few lines.

"_Yesterday I dreamt that I was becoming as brave as my daddy fighting in China and as smart as my mummy who is a doctor."_

Damian looked down at the little skeleton at his feet, whose empty eye sockets seemed to probe him.

"_What do you dream?"_ the pile of bones seemed to ask him.

"I dream what your world told me what to dream. Survive one more day," Damian replied. "Just like everyone else."

* * *

**Right, so the main idea for this chapter was to show the ruins of D.C. completly empty, and to make Damian wander in. The main inspiration came from the song _"Marooned"_ by Pink Floyd, and the video for the song, showing the city of Prypiat during Winter, completly deserterd and a book, _"Night_ Work" by Thomas Glavinic, about a guy waking up one day to go to work in Vienna and discovers he is the last living thing on Earth. (go read it, it's a great book)**

**Also, the last part of this chapter is inspired by an other Pink Floyd song I already mentionned (in case you did not get yet that I was a huge fan of these guys, there, it's said) _"Welcome to the Machine"_ for the verse _"What did you dream? / It's alright we told you what to dream"_. (All right goes to the writers of the song)**

**I think it fits perfectly to Fallout, as the old-world destroyed itself and shaterred the dreams of every people in the Wastes, same as Damian dreams were destroyed when he had to escape the Vault.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed.**

**Next time, a new challenge awaits Damian.**

**Until next time.**


	74. Chapter 74: Welcome Home

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Thanks for the review, Mokoloco, got to admit that I really enjoyed writing this part of the chapter.**

**Today's chapter wil answer the review that Ronin Kenshin made in chapter 62.**

**Please enjoy and thanks for reading.**

* * *

The sun was slowly starting to disappear on the horizon when Damian entered Megaton. He and Fawkes had split up the night before. The Super Mutant had made the decision to leave the Wasteland of the Capital, hoping to find a place where others intelligent Super Mutant like him, could live in peace with humans.

Damian had greeted his faithful companion and watched him wander off down an old road with his laser gatling on his back and a travel bag in his hand.

Damian walked to his cabin when one of the locals stopped him, informing him that Moira was looking for him. Damian sighed unwillingly, and headed to the Craterside Supplies, wondering what crazy assignment the eccentric woman had found for him.

He opened the door of the shop and inspected the inside of the shed. He had acquired the habit of checking that every new room he explored was not trapped at the entrance, and although he was certain that no Megaton resident would install trigger wires connected to a rifle above their doors for the night, this habit had remained engraved in him, and he always remembered the time when, for the purpose of his research, Moira had sent a bucket of irradiated water to his face.

Moira was behind her counter, finishing the day's sales and purchases recap. Two days earlier, Damian had brought back her the notes for the last mission she had sent him on. He had had to go to Rivet City, and find out the story of the city's founding, a task that had turned out to be more difficult than expected, and had forced Damian to conduct a real investigation and search the abandoned parts of the carrier to find out the truth.

With this final research mission, the book Moira was working on was finished. All that remained was to print it. Damian could already see himself excavating the surrounding ruins or the Arlington Library and pulling an old printing press to Megaton, when Moira had reassured him by proudly showing him the large press she had bought a few days earlier.

After making sure Moira had not left a mine or any other dangerous object lying around, Damian entered and walked over to the counter.

"Good evening!" cried the owner of the premises. "How are you?"

"Good," Damian replied suspiciously.

"I have a surprise for you!"

Before he could think of anything, Moira grabbed something from behind the counter and gave it to him.

Damian looked down and realized it was a large book. The cover was hard and white. A skull was drawn on it, with the title of the book on top.

"'_The Wasteland Survival Guide'_," read Damian aloud. "_'Original idea: Moira Brown. Author: Moira Brown. Co-author, expert and research assistant: Damian Franklin'_."

"Open it! Come on!" Moira pressed him excitedly.

Damian did so and lifted the cover of the book. He looked up briefly at Moira, who gave him a broad smile and continued reading.

"'_This first copy of 'The Wasteland Survival Guide' is dedicated to my dear assistant of Vault 101, Damian Franklin, without whom this book could never have been written.'_."

Damian flipped through the book. Everything he had told Moira was transcribed almost identically.

"I've already contracted with a caravan to have them delivered to all places in the Wasteland, but I wanted this copy to be returned to you."

"I... It's really nice of you, Moira," Damian smiled as he puts the book back in his bag.

Moira shrugged.

"Don't mention it," she answered. "You're the best research assistant anyone could ever dream of."

Damian left Moira's store after thanking her again for the book. He looked at the crater at his feet and when he looked down at the Brass Lantern, he heard her belly growl. It was a little early to eat, but his last meal having been interrupted by a band of Raiders, he decided that he had earned a bellyful of food.

"Here you go, a brahmin steak!"

"Thanks, Jenny."

Damian was sitting at the counter, hungrily staring at the piece of meat on his plate. He went through his pockets looking for his purse, but the young woman in the yellow jumpsuit raised her hand and shook her head.

"No, that one's on us."

"Well... Thank you very much," smiled Damian a little embarrassed.

He attacked his meal, listening with a distracted ear to the conversations of the other guests which were mingling with the interminable sermons of Confessor Cromwell, still standing in the puddle in front of the atomic bomb. Damian thought back to the moment he had seen the warhead and almost choked with surprise when Simms offered him a reward to defuse it.

Jenny Stahl had set up an old Juke-Box next to the counter and the tired machine played a relaxing tune.

Damian finished his meal and unhooked his Pip-Boy from his wrist. His trusty personal computer had suffered slightly from all his explorations in the ruins of D.C.. The screen was slightly cracked and would have to undergo a complete cleaning and a change of some internal components. Also, it was no longer able to pick up the Galaxy News radio waves.

After turning off the Pip-Boy and opening it, he looked inside, under the curious eyes of the restaurant's customers. After his little maintenance session, he plugged the computer back in and checked the radio option. Galaxy News was back on the air, as was another one he had never seen before.

Damian turned it on and almost fell out of his chair when he heard the voice coming out of the speakers.

"_Damian, I feel like you've been gone forever. I hope you can hear my message before it's too late. The... The situation in the Vault is getting worse and worse every day. My dad... I think he's going to snap and something terrible is going to happen. I've tried to calm things down, but I'm afraid I can't do anything anymore."_

Damian got up from his stool and knocked it over and stared at his Pip-Boy as if he had just seen a ghost. That voice was Amata's. It came out of the Pip-Boy's speakers and spoke directly to him.

"_Damian. I... I'd understand if you'd decide not to come back, after everything that's happened, but... I need your help. If you're hearing this message and if you still care, I hope you'll come. I managed to change the password of the Vault door to my first name, hoping you haven't forgotten it. Please, come back. I need your help."_

A robotic voice announced that the message would be repeated. Damian heard a voice next to him, asking him if everything was okay. Without bothering to answer, he jumped from the counter and rushed to the city gates.

His mind was clouded with various hypotheses and worst-case scenarios. He chased these negative thoughts out of his mind with a movement of his head.

He went through the heavy metal city gates and down the dusty slope to the road and the ruins of Springvale. His gaze turned to the West, to one of the hills that surrounded the ruins and lay in the shadow of a collapsed highway.

He walked up the road and up the hill to the entrance of the cave. There he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

Damian remembered the first time he had laid eyes on this apocalyptic landscape, about a month before. He entered the cave, stumbling over the rocks and bones scattered on the ground. It had been about a month since Damian had fled Vault 101. Yet he felt as if he had left years ago.

His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and at the bottom of the cave Damian could see the heavy steel gear-shaped door stamped with the number _'101'_.

Damian stood still. He looked at the door. His heart was pounding in his chest cavity. For a moment, all the fear and anger he felt evaporated, giving way to a strange feeling. He was going home. His home, the one he had been forced to abandon a month ago, was right behind that gear-shaped door. His dearest wish was finally within reach.

If Damian managed to resolve the situation, then he could return to live in the Vault. The idea of abandoning all his friends in the Wasteland suddenly hit him. If he returned to the Vault, he would not see Sarah, Reilly, the Rangers, Simms, Wadsworth.

And Alice. Damian thought of the young scribe. He had not seen her since that night at the Citadel when he had found her crying.

"_No,"_ he said to himself, inwardly. _"I'll open the Vault and I'll keep seeing them. And I'm sure Alice will be happy to visit a still functioning Vault."_

Amata's distress message resonated in his head. Damian approached the outside control console. With a slightly trembling hand, he typed his best friend's name on the small keyboard.

To his great relief, an alarm began to sound, and the thick steel door slid back and opened, revealing the entrance to the Vault. Pulling the breech of his assault rifle, Damian stepped over the edge of the door and into the bunker. A few second later, the door automatically closed.

The entrance was in darkness. Damian activated his flashlight and scanned the area of the light beam.

A lot had changed since he left. The Vault security had installed gates, normally used to indicate to residents that an area was being worked on or cleaned up. Several Radroaches of various sizes crawled on the ground and ran for cover as soon as the beam of light passed over them.

With his lamp, Damian lit the staircase in front of him, and the corpse of a man. He approached slowly and crouched down in front of the body. Despite the fact that the roaches had started to feed on it, Damian recognized the body of Jim Wilkins, one of the children he had grown up with. Jim Wilkins was one of the few kid in the Vault, Damian got along with outside of Amata, and to see that he too had obviously tried to escape and ended up being eaten by the vermin at the entrance to the Vault saddened him.

He stepped over the dead body and arrived at the door leading to the Vault's reactor. He had thought of using the secret corridor to the Overseer's office, but it was a good bet that Alphonse Almodovar, Amata's father, had this access sealed. Besides, coming out right in the Overseer's office, face to face with the man who hated him seemed a bad idea to Damian, although he would gladly try it, just to see Alphonse's face.

He unlocked the lock and pushed the door open. Immediately, he saw a human figure in front of him, armed with a gun and waving a flashlight at his face.

"Halt!" shouted the voice of a man pointing his gun at Damian in a gesture of panic. "I don't know how you got in here, but..."

The man fell silent. His gun still pointed at Damian, he walked a few steps forward, leaving the darkness. With one hand, he activated a switch that lit a small lamp above the door.

"Holy shit, it's you! Yes, it's really you!"

The man, wearing a vault suit under a Kevlar vest, lowered his weapon and raised the visor of his helmet, revealing his face.

"It's really you! I knew it!" cried the man, smiling. "I almost didn't recognize you because of the dust on your clothes and your new look!"

Damian recognized Officer Gomez, one of the security guard and maybe the only security guard who had never hated him or bullied him. Gomez gave Damian a broad smile and put his hand forward.

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd gone for good with your father."

"I received a distress call from Amata! She said she needed help urgently!"

Officer Gomez frowned. He looked around as if he was afraid someone might overhear their conversation.

"I don't know exactly what you're talking about, but yes, the situation is a bit complicated right now."

"Is she all right?" Damian asked in an urgent tone. "Is Amata okay? If..."

"Calm down," calmly cut Gomez off. "Look, Amata's fine, at least she's healthy and safe."

Hearing this, Damian let out a long sigh of relief and a smile appeared on his face.

He took a more serious look and looked around. He felt as if a cyclone had passed through the room where he was with Gomez.

"What's going on here Officer Gomez. Looks like the Vault's upside down."

The security guard took a serious look and looked down.

"It's not just an impression. Shortly after you and your father left, the situation escalated. Between the Radroaches and some trigger-happy security guys, we lost people... Too many people."

Damian sensed that the security guard was tired, and he guessed he must have witnessed things he would have rather not see.

"Amata was finally able to calm her father down, but the damage was done. Things went back to normal, well, as normal as they could be after all those deaths and your escape."

Gomez fell silent and seemed to hesitate for a few seconds.

"By the way, how's... How's your father?"

"He's dead," Damian answered after a brief silence.

"Oh... I, uh... Sorry..."

He cleared his throat to give himself some composure and resumed his explanations.

"A few days ago, all the kids of the Vault, with Amata in the lead, began to hold us adults to account. They wondered why you had left and began to ask questions about the outside world. Of course, the Overseer acted like he had no idea what they were talking about, but they continued to snoop around and with Brotch's help, they organized a little _'rebellion'_ as some of the colleagues like to say."

A slight awkward silence set in, quickly broken by Gomez.

"Look, I don't have time to argue with you. The relief will arrive soon and if someone else sees you..."

"Hey, Gomez!"

Officer Gomez froze up and turned to the hallway behind him. Officer Mack arrived, limping slightly. He looked around and turned toward his colleague.

"Who are you talking to?"

Gomez looked around, puzzled, and then turned to Officer Mack.

"Uh... No one."

"Hey, I thought that door was supposed to stay closed!"

"Yeah, it's just, I thought I heard some noise, but it's just Radroaches, nothing important," lied Gomez.

Officer Mack sniffed loudly and leaned on his able-bodied leg.

"Yeah, that shit's been swarming all over the place since the Doc and his asshole son took off. To think, the son of a bitch almost crippled me by shooting me in the ankle. What I wouldn't give to put one between his eyes for that son of a bitch. But I'm pretty sure he is somewhere outside, pissing his pant and crying for his mommy," smiled Officer Mack.

Gomez nodded vaguely and grunted something.

"Well, I'll see you in four hours," Mack said.

Gomez nodded silently and walked away looking around. After making sure he was far enough away not to be heard by Officer Mack, he ventured to speak.

"Uh... Damian? You there?"

A faint rustle could be heard on his left, and he turned around to see that Damian had just appeared before him.

"But... How?"

"One of the technological wonders of the old world," the young man commented, pointing to the Stealth Boy hanging on his right wrist.

"Convenient," Gomez recognized as he stared at the little device.

"Could you take me to Amata. Something tells me that my presence here won't be appreciated by everyone."

Gomez had a bitter smile.

"Mack's not the only one who wants to take you down."

"Yeah, I'd like to see him try. He should be happy that I only shot him in the ankle," Damian spat.

Gomez could not think of anything to say. He knew that Officer Mack was responsible for Jonas' death and that he had almost reserved a similar fate for Amata if Damian had not intervened. He looked over Damian's shoulder and, realizing that Officer Mack could probably come see if he heard noise, he signaled him to follow him.

"Stay close to me. I don't think you can get lost, but if any of the agents or residents see a door open without anyone nearby, they're going to get suspicious."

Damian nodded and activated his Stealth Boy again. A slight rustle sounded, and he disappeared before Gomez's eyes.

The security guard blinked several times and heard Damian's voice come out of nowhere.

"I'll follow you."

They went into the corridors of the Vault. Damian walked behind Gomez, inches away from him.

The Vault had seen better days. The place had not been cleaned in a long time, and some of the light bulbs had gone out.

Some walls had bullet holes or graffiti, insulting the Overseer or security.

They arrived in the Atrium and Damian could see an elderly man in security uniforms standing behind a makeshift barricade.

The man was talking with someone Damian could not see. The tone of the conversation began to rise, and the security guard asked the person in front of him to step back.

Damian and Gomez approached. On hearing them, the man turned around. He seemed relieved to see Gomez.

At one of the exits from the Atrium, Damian could see a young man, dressed in a vault suit and a leather jacket. He immediately identified him as one of the members of the Tunnel Snakes, the gang of petty thugs who had always taken a malicious pleasure in bullying him.

The young man was in the dark and Damian could not tell if it was Butch or another member of the wannabe gang.

Damian saw him approaching and saw a metallic flash in his hands. The old security guard turned around. His eyes caught the lightning bolt. He raised his gun to the young man and fired.

The bullet whistled and lodged in the concrete wall a few centimeters from the young man.

"Taylor! Hold your fire for Christ's sake!"

The old security guard turned to Gomez, a sorry expression on his wrinkled face.

"I... I didn't mean to shoot," he stammered. "But he had a knife... With these rebels, you never know what to expect!"

"They're kids!" Gomez cried out. "You could have killed him!"

Agent Taylor apologized, his hand holding the gun shaking. He struggled to put the gun away and looked in the direction the young man had fled.

"It's okay, Taylor," Gomez said calmly but authoritatively. "Stay here and please don't use your gun again."

Gomez nodded discreetly to Damian, although he did not know exactly where he was. Damian followed him as they walked through the Atrium. Gomez led him through the corridors of the Vault and Damian recognized the path to his father's old clinic.

"As you can see, the situation is out of control," Gomez whispered. "It's only a matter of time before someone else gets killed."

The security guard Damian had always known as a self-assured man now seemed completely overwhelmed and it was hard to blame him. Vault-Tec's security guard training was not very thorough, and the use of excessive force was almost always enough to keep residents under control.

"Most of the guys don't care about shooting kids," he says sadly. "I shouldn't tell you this but right after you left, many were disappointed that they didn't get a chance to shoot you."

Gomez stopped at a crossroads. A little further on, Damian could see makeshift barricades. After making sure they were alone, Damian turned off his Stealth Boy and turned to the security guard.

"This is where I have to stop," said Gomez. "If I get any closer or they see a security uniform, it could get out of hand."

"Thank you, Officer Gomez. I'm sorry you got mixed up in all this."

"You've always been a good boy, Damian. I'm glad you're still alive and I'm glad I got to see you again."

Damian thanked him with a nod. He walked down the hallway but felt Gomez's hand grab his arm.

"Listen," said the security guard. "I don't know what Amata told you. I don't know if you're here to help her or just to see her again before leaving everything behind and leaving for good, but... I'm asking you to help us. Go to the Overseer and resolve this situation. Between you and me, the idea of opening the Vault frightens me, because I'm afraid that it will put the whole Vault in danger. I know you hate a lot of us, for making your childhood as miserable as possible, but any case, whether you help Amata or not, please keep that in mind."

Damian remained silent staring into the void. Gomez was right, he hated Alphonse and almost every people in the Vault, and he did not know how he would react if he was alone with the Overseer or any security guard, other than Gomez.

"If you decide to go to the Overseer, I'll wait for you here."

Damian nodded silently and headed towards his father's clinic.

As he walked, the memories came flooding back. All those evenings spent watching his father work on his terminal, unaware that he was thinking of a way to revive Project Purity. These moments of free time, spent in the clinic or next door, discussing about everything and nothing with Amata.

A little further on, behind a makeshift barricade, a young man in a vault suit and leather jacket with a large green snake sewn into the back, was juggling a gun.

With his hair slicked back and an arrogant look on his face, he turned the gun in his hands before stopping and pretending to draw the gun and pointing it at the wall and then in several directions.

Damian recognized Butch, the leader of the Tunnel Snakes and his main youth bully. He could not hold a smile on his face when he saw the young delinquent putting on a big show with his gun.

Butch began his armed gangster impersonation again and turned to Damian.

When he saw him, he jumped up and dropped the gun. As he tried to retrieve it, he stumbled into it and the gun slipped to Damian who stopped his run with his foot.

Butch slowly looked up at Damian. A broad smile appeared on his face as he recognized the young man.

"Damn it! You're back!"

Damian picked up the gun. He checked that the safety catch was engaged and removed the magazine and then unload the cartridge into the chamber and caught it in flight under the eyes of an admiring Butch.

He put the bullet back in the magazine and rotated the empty gun around his finger as he had seen it in an old Western.

"You still need a little practice, Butch," Damian said with a hint of arrogance in his voice.

He gave the gun and magazine back to Butch who clumsily hung it from his belt.

"I knew Amata had tried to contact you, but no one knew if you'd get the message."

"Amata's here?"

"Yeah, we're all in the clinic with Andy except Mr. Brotch. Those security bastards put him in a holding cell."

"Why the clinic?" Damian asked.

"It was Amata's idea. She says it's a symbol. After all it's the place where you and your father spent the most time, and since you were able to get out of the Vault... Like us, well, not yet."

"So, you want to leave the Vault?" Damian asked intrigued.

"Yeah. Screw the Vault. We want to discover the outside world, leave, like you did with your father, by the way, what's it like outside?"

"Is Amata here?" Damian repeated, dodging Butch's question.

"Uh... Yeah, yeah... She must be in your father's office."

Damian walked away. He heard Butch calling out to him.

"It's good to have you back. I wanted to thank you again for, you know, my mom and the Radroaches, and... Sorry about... You know... Everything..."

Damian went back to Butch. He looked into Butch's eyes, smiled at him and, without warning, punch him in the stomach.

All oxygen was forced out of Butch's lungs. He bent forward, remained still for a few second and fell on his bottom.

Holding his belly, he looked up at Damian, who reached out his hand. After a brief hesitation, Butch grabbed his hand and stood up.

"Apologies accepted," Damian smiled.

He walked away and made his way to the entrance of the clinic. He walked past the classroom where he heard two voices talking. Lending an ear, he recognized the voices of old Mrs. Palmer, Jonas' grandmother, and Susie Mack, who was worried about what might happen if the situation dragged on.

Damian arrived at the front door of the clinic. He flipped the switch and the door opened. The inside was a mess and James would surely have been mortified to see his workspace in this state.

Most of the young people Damian had grown up with were gathered in the room and were talking in a low voice. Freddie Gomez, Christine Kendall and Amata. Damian lingered on their faces. They all looked like they were sleep deprived.

Christine Kendall turned her head and saw Damian in the doorway. Her jaw dropped. She raised her arm towards Amata and shook her gently.

Amata looked at Christine and followed her gaze. When she saw Damian, she hiccupped in amazement.

"Hello there," Damian said, a smile on his lips.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**That's it, Damian is finaly home. How will he solve the Vault's problems ? Find out next time.**


	75. Chapter 75: The Hero of the day

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Damian has entered Vault 101 after receiving a distress call from Amata. The Vault is in trouble and it seems Damian is the only one who can solve the situation.**

**This is the second to last chapter of the story (well, third to last actually, if you count the epilog I have in store). Feels strange...**

**Please enjoy.**

* * *

All the eyes of the people gathered in James' clinic were on Damian and all were staring at him as if they had just seen a ghost.

Amata could not believe her eyes. He had heard her distress call and came back. A broad smile lit up her face and she ran towards him and jumped on his neck.

"Oh my God! You came back!"

The young woman refused to let go of Damian, fearing that he would disappear or leave again.

"I'm happy to see you again," Damian whispered. "I've missed you."

Amata gradually loosened her embrace, wiped away the tears that came to her eyes with the palm of her hand and carried him into the clinic with her.

The astonished expressions of the other young people turned to joy. They all gave Damian a smile or a friendly greeting.

"Are you here to help us?" said one.

"I was sure you'd make it!" cried another.

Damian replied with a slight smile, but deep inside, a small voice echoed the word _"hypocrites"_ in his head. The only one who did not seem happy to see him was Christine Kendall. Christine's father had been the first to try to stop Damian as he fled from the Vault, and in the struggle between the two men, Officer Kendall had been shot in the throat.

Freddie Gomez left the clinic and returned a few seconds later, accompanied by old Mrs. Palmer and Susie Mack.

Susie Mack, with her red hair tied in a ponytail, seemed surprised to see Damian. She gave him a slightly tight smile. The young man was under no illusion that she was not happy to see him either and must have been angry at him for shooting his older brother, Stevie Mack.

When Damian saw Mrs. Palmer, Jonas' grandmother, he could not help but look down.

"I'm glad to see you again," said the old woman.

She stared at Damian for a few seconds before smiling at him and gently rubbing his shoulder.

Damian did not know if she was going to hold him responsible for the death of her grandson, but he looked up and smiled back at the old woman's comforting gesture.

When the reunion was over, Damian took a few steps around the room and looked around him. Amata took the opportunity to observe him.

His brown battle hair had grown and was full of dust and he wore a bandana on his forehead. His beard probably needed trimming and his face had some scratches and scars. Amata watched Damian from head to toe. He was wearing a military uniform and a large khaki jacket, over an armor piece of the same color with a four-leaf clover on his chest. The armor had traces of battle that were quite old. He also had a strap across his chest where he had stored magazines for an assault rifle.

He had only been gone for a month, but it looked like he had been gone for years.

Her smile faded briefly as she met the young man's eyes.

Damian's eyes, once brimming with life, no longer expressed anything. His eyes were cold and dead, as if their owner had gone to Hell and back. Amata shivered as she realized that these eyes had probably seen things that she and the other residents of the Vault would never be able to imagine.

The questions of the other young people kept coming. Guessing that he would speak only to herself, Amata grabbed Damian by the arm and dragged him to the back of the clinic, to James' old office.

Damian looked around the room and sighed before turning to the young woman who was closing the door behind her. She faced Damian and looked at him for a few moments before a smile appeared on her face.

"What is it?" Damian asked.

"I... No, nothing. I just can't realize you're really here, that's all," Amata smiled.

Her smile faded and her look became more serious.

"I was afraid that my message wouldn't reach you, or that you wouldn't come back, or that..."

Damian put his hands on her shoulders, making her quiet. He looked into Amata's eyes and smiled at her.

"You are my best friend, Amata. Did you really think I'd sit idly by knowing you were in trouble? And I made you a promise when I left. I promised I'd come back, didn't I?"

"Yes, you're right," smiled the young lady.

All her doubts and fears vanished and she regained her composure. Damian put his bag on the floor and pulled the strap of his assault rifle up over his shoulder.

"Before we talk, I wanted to give you this."

Amata approached the desk and opened one of the drawers. She took out a small chipped frame and gave it to Damian.

Damian knew instantly what it was about. His mother's favorite Bible verse, _"Revelation 21:6, I am Alpha and Omega."_

"I managed to take it before my father seized all your and your father's things. I'm sorry about the frame."

Damian was staring at the frame without saying a word.

"Did... Did you manage to find your father?"

"Yes," Damian simply replied.

The young woman smiled. Her smile faded immediately. She had just understood. The expression on Damian's face, the fact that James was not there with him.

"I...," began to say Amata.

"It's okay," Damian cut gently.

The young woman nodded silently.

"I'm glad you are here. It's become a real madhouse here," Amata said. "I tried to resolve the situation, but my father is stuck in his position, and it's impossible to find a compromise with him or the other adults in the Vault."

Amata sighed and turned to the office window overlooking the clinic.

"When you left, there were many dead and wounded. Jonas, the Hannons, Janice and Jim Wilkins... We lost so many people that night. All for a lie."

She started pacing around the room.

"Losing all those people because my father wanted to keep the Vault door closed was bad enough, but when I found out they died protecting a lie, I..."

Amata took a deep breath and tried to regain her calm.

"I learned that the Vault had already been opened before you and your father left. Our whole life has been one big lie. My father's predecessor opened the Vault and my father himself opened the door to let you and your father in.

She turned to Damian to see his reaction.

"I knew about it," Damian replied. "I saw an old Vault 101 suit outside, and my father told me everything."

"They've been lying to us all our lives, and now they're keeping us locked up in here, all to protect this fantasy of being_ "untainted"_ by the outside world."

She sat down in a chair and ran her hands over her face. Damian then noticed how tired and exhausted she looked.

"After you left, I went through my father's computer and that's when I discovered the truth. I knew that if I told him, he would not want to know, so I discussed it with the others. I thought that if more than one person knew about it, he and the other adults would agree to back off. Instead, he continued to deny it. Mr. Brotch tried to open the Vault's doors, but he was caught, and my father had him thrown into a cell. We've been holed up here ever since, and I've been trying desperately to talk some sense into my father. He thinks we want to leave the Vault, but that's not true at all. There was never any question of leaving for good. Well, Butch and Wally are saying to anyone who wants to hear that they're going to leave and start the toughest gang on the East Coast."

Hearing this, Damian nearly choked with laughter.

"But they're too cowardly to go off on their own," Amata added, giving his friend a look that told him to be serious.

"Yes, there are far more terrifying things out there than the Radroaches," Damian said as he thought back to Butch's look of terror when he came face to face with one of the mutant insects. "Speaking of dear old Wally Mack, where is he anyway?"

"His father put him on the Vault security, shortly after you left. At first, he complained and complained, but eventually he got used to the idea of strutting around in his fancy uniform with a baton in his hand and a gun in his belt."

"I bet he must be running after people, waving his baton and yelling _'Respect my authority'_."

"Anyway," said Amata to change the subject. "My father has completely lost his mind, and I'm afraid we won't last much longer, entrenched here. But he's going to have to understand that he won't be able to keep us here indefinitely. There's a whole new world waiting for us on the other side of that door, and I'm not gonna give up until I get to it."

A smile appeared on Damian's face. He had always admired the tenacity and iron will of his friend. He then sighed and became serious again.

"I want to make sure you understand that the outside world is a dangerous place."

"I know," Amata replied. "I know it's not a safe place, but if we don't open the Vault, we will die. All of us. We've been locked down here in isolation for 200 years. Most of us are already blood related in a way or another. In a few generations, we'll basically have to resort to incest to keep the Vault population up. Don't get me wrong, but right now, I'm more preoccupied by that, than by the dangers of the outside world."

"Yeah, I arrived at the same conclusion," sighed Damian.

She looked at the window.

"I care about these people, and the fact that I can't do anything to help them makes me sick."

"That's why I'll go and talk to your father. I might not like these people as much as you, but Vault 101 is my home, and knowing that it's dying like that also makes me sick."

"Is it true?" Amata cried.

She seemed relieved and a smile lit up her tired face. Her smile faded quickly and she stared at Damian with a worried look on her face.

"Just... Please, try... Try to stay calm and please don't hurt him... Okay? I know you hate him, and he's done some terrible things, but... He's still my dad, you know. So, please promise me you won't hurt him."

Damian remained silent and finally nodded.

"I promise I won't do anything to him," Damian finally said. "But if he or one of his cronies attack me, then I'll defend myself."

Amata seemed to hesitate for a few seconds and then nodded slowly. Damian gave her a comforting smile and left his dad's office. Amata watched him walk away and disappear into the corridor of the Vault. She put her hands together and took a deep breath.

"It all rests on you now."

Officer Gomez was still waiting in the hallway.

"So?" he asked Damian.

"Officer Gomez, I'm going to talk to the Overseer, could you take me to his office?"

"Okay, follow me."

Damian nodded and reactivated his Stealth Boy.

"Herman!"

They had walk for a minute or two when they had heard a call coming from behind them. They turned around and saw a woman with short-cut brown hair coming towards them.

"Pepper? What the hell are you doing here? You know damn well the residents are confined to their quarters."

Pepper Gomez was Officer Gomez's wife, and the mother of Freddie Gomez, their only child.

"Herman, I'm worried about Freddie. He's out there with those rebels and God knows what they're up to."

"Pepper, they're just kids, they..."

"You said the same thing about Dr. Franklin's son and look at the results. He endangered the Vault when he left, and he killed your colleague. He's the reason our son and the others have this fantasy about leaving the Vault."

Officer Gomez sighed. Discreetly, he looked over where he assumed Damian was and gave him a sorry look.

"Come," he said tenderly to his wife. "I'll take you home. And as for Freddie and the situation in the Vault, everything will be all right, you'll see."

Damian watched them move away and disappear into the corner of a corridor. He turned to the corridor and headed to the Supervisor's office.

When he arrived at the door, he made sure that nobody was around and knocked. No one answered so he opened the door and put his hand on the handle of his gun.

Damian entered the office, empty. He quickly walked around, remembering all the times Alphonse Almodovar had summoned him here.

He sat down in the large leather armchair and turned on the terminal. Alphonse had written several entries about the situation with the rebels and apparently intended to let the situation resolve by itself, the main reason being that Amata was leading the _"rebels"_. Damian was certain that this attitude would make some security agents particularly angry and he intended to use this argument and Alphonse's love for his daughter to convince him if his initial plan failed.

After reading the various security reports and uploading them to his Pip-Boy, those of the reconnaissance teams sent to Megaton in the past, Damian stumbled upon an entrance, reporting contact between the Enclave and Vault 101. Initially alarmed, he was relieved to find that Alphonse had refused access to the Enclave and had not reviled the location of the Vault. His obsession to keep the Vault closed was finally useful for something.

When his little search was over, Damian sat down in the armchair and folded his arms. About ten minutes later, he heard footsteps in the hallway. Damian turned the chair towards the door. The Supervisor entered his office and seeing Damian sitting in the chair, his hands clasped and a slight smirk on his face, he clenched his jaw.

"Good evening, Mr. Bond, I've been expecting you," Damian said with a broad smile.

The opportunity was too good, and Damian couldn't resist throwing out one of his favorite pre-war movie lines, and the Overseer's angry red face was strangely satisfying for him.

"So, you're back?" Alphonse said scornfully. "Have you finished looking for your father? Have you had enough of the dust and ruins of the Wasteland?"

"Oh, no, I was just passing by and thought I'd say hello."

"Arrogant little prick," the Overseer hissed. "If you think you can come back here, you're wrong. You have no future with us, and that's 'Mr. Overseer' to you."

"No, sorry, Alphonse. I lost what little respect I had for you when you ordered Jonas's death, tried to kill me and ordered Officer Mack to beat up your own daughter. How's his leg, by the way?"

"A lot of people died when you ran away with your father. Jonas' disappearance is tragic, I admit. But he wanted to follow your father and leave us. Then others would have followed and the Vault would have lost half its population."

"So, you killed him. Don't try to justify your murders."

"That's easy for someone who's never had to make hard decisions."

"You have no idea what I did out there or what I'm capable of," Damian hissed in his teeth.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and Damian noticed that Alphonse seemed strangely uncomfortable.

"Well, where were we," Damian said. "Ah, yes, you were talking about my future in the Vault. It's clear that Vault 101 has no future with you at the helm."

"The future of the Vault and its residents lies underground, not on the surface. Everything I do, I do it for the good of the Vault. Keep in mind, my boy, that we are the last pure strain of human beings on this planet and it is my mission and Vault 101 mission to preserve that strain."

Damian laughed, which made the Overseer clenched his jaw.

"Ah, the famous _'mission'_ of Vault 101," Damian ironized. "This mission that you and your predecessor had sworn to carry out and that you have, each in your own way, jeopardized. Your predecessor by sending reconnaissance teams to the Wastes and Megaton, and you by allowing a man and his baby to come and live in the Vault. Wasn't it you who kept saying, _'No one ever enters and no one ever lives Vault 101'_? Well, breaking news, Alphonse, Vault-Tec no longer exists. It's been 200 years since those who decided to lock 500 people in a bunker until the end of times, died and no one cares if the Vault is sealed or open."

"My predecessor was an idiot," said the Supervisor. "His decision to open the Vault only brought him one thing, his death. The only reason I let you in with your father was because the Vault needed a doctor. If I'd known how much trouble you'd cause us, I'd have never let you in."

"You talk about protecting and acting for the good of the Vault and its residents, but all you do is slowly destroy them. The rebels are right. The Vault must be opened."

"Really?" Alphonse laughed. "Go ahead, distract me. What makes you think you know what's good or bad for the Vault?"

"Two things. The first, numbers," Damian answered. "I suppose you must have access to Vault 101 demographics charts since the Great War. The Vault was closed down two centuries ago with, inside, how many? 500 people? 200 years later, how many residents are left?"

"More than enough. Our genetic diversity will be sufficient for... A few more generations," the Overseer said.

"And then?" Damian insisted. "If you keep this up, the Vault will collapse from the inside and become a giant concrete coffin for a few inbred humans, far from your ideal of pure human stock. Do you really want to put Amata through that? Speaking of her, that brings me to my second point. You refuse to act against the _"rebels"_ because Amata is at their head. By prolonging the status quo, you are putting her life in danger. Imagine if some of your men overrule your authority and decide to resolve the situation on their own, how long before someone else dies? Do you intend to take that risk? Risk Amata's life?"

Alphonse lowered his eyes and opened his mouth several times without any sound coming out. Obviously, this idea had not crossed his mind before.

Damian stood up and walk around the office, before resting on it.

"You love your daughter, Alphonse, and she loves you too. The proof of this is your refusal to act against her and the promise she made me not to hurt you, despite all the hatred and contempt I feel for you. You can put an end to all this, Alphonse."

The Overseer sighed. He seemed lost, like a child who does not know what to do in front of a problem.

"You can still save the residents, Alphonse. You can save Amata, but then you will have to give up on continuing the Vault's mission."

"You're right," the Supervisor finally said. "We'll never last another century, whether we get supplies from outside or not. We were the last bastion of pure humanity, and we're doomed. I, have doomed us. My refusal to act lead to more chaos in the Vault and I put Amata in danger."

"Humanity may no longer be the pure genetic entity you wanted, but I assure you that it lives on at the surface, struggling to rebuild and provide a better future for its children. That's your job too, isn't it? As a father and the Overseer."

Alphonse searched for his words for a few moments.

"I can't make that decision," he said. "But there's someone else who will."

He slowly approached the Vault's control panel. Damian gave him room and watched him out of the corner of his eye, ready to disarm it if he ever decided to pull out a weapon.

Alphonse pressed a button and the speakers in the Vault began to crack and whistle.

"Your attention, please. This is the Overseer speaking. All security personnel are under orders not to interfere with the rebels. I repeat, security personnel are forbidden to interact with or approach the rebels. Any officer who disobeys this order will be severely punished."

He released the button and the sound of the loudspeakers went off.

"I think I need to have a talk with my daughter," he said.

A few minutes later, the Overseer and Damian approached the clinic. During their silent walk through the Vault, the various security guards or residents they had passed by had stared at them, stunned.

They arrived in front of the clinic and saw that Amata and the others were waiting for them. Damian had expected several security guards to run into him, but all seemed to have obeyed the Overseer's order.

Alphonse stopped in front of the children and looked at them briefly before clearing his throat. He approached a general intercom and his voice echoed throughout the Vault as he spoke.

"Attention, please, this is the Overseer speaking. It... It has come to my attention several facts and events, that made me reconsider my position on the crisis we are currently experiencing.

Amata stared at her father in amazement and turned her eyes to Damian. Damian gave her a broad smile and discreetly raised his thumb in the air.

"These new elements made me realize that I had not acted for the good of the Vault or its residents. That is why I made the decision, effective immediately, to resign as Overseer of Vault 101 and appoint my daughter, Amata Almodovar, as the new Overseer. That will be all. Thank you."

Alphonse removed his finger from the intercom and sighed. He turned to Amata who stared at him, her face alternating between surprise, joy and apprehension.

"Amata."

"F... Father?"

He sighed and smiled tenderly at his daughter.

"You were able to show that you were capable of making difficult decisions in times of crisis," he said with admiration. "It is therefore quite natural that my position belongs to you."

"F... Dad, I..."

"We'll work out the details later in private. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm a little tired."

He walked away from where he had come and let the _"rebels"_ absorb the news. Everyone looked at each other in disbelief, wondering if what Alphonse had said was true or if they had all just had the same waking dream.

The awkward silence that followed Alphonse's speech was quickly broken by several exclamations of joy, making Amata jump. Susie Mack turned to Amata and began to applaud her and congratulate her, quickly imitated by the others.

"You... You... You did it...," she said, turning to Damian.

"I made you a promise, didn't I? I always keep my promises."

"H-how did you do it?"

"Oh, I had a long talk with your father and made my case to him, all in a civil manner."

Amata raised her eyebrows in amazement.

"Civil? You and him?"

Damian began to laugh at his friend's puzzled expression.

"Anyway," Amata said when Damian was finished. "Now we can all learn more about the outside world, right? And as Overseer, I plan to reopen the Vault, and for good this time."

Amata's mind was already focused on all the work ahead of her now that she had been appointed Overseer.

"So, tell me, how do you plan to do that?"

"We'll have to work on rebuilding the Vault," Amata answered. "And how to organize ourselves with the surface."

"Now that I'm back, if you need help with anything related to the outside world, let me know."

Amata looked up at Damian and suddenly realized something. He was back, indeed. The whole problem came from there. Many people in the Vault still blamed Damian and his father for all the problems they had had since they had left. With him in the Vault, it would be impossible to make a fresh start and the situation would remain at a standstill. Her appointment as Overseer would change a lot of things, and she suspected that many, including Allen Mack, the new head of security, would give her a hard time, and if he ever ran into Damian...

Damian looked around him with bright eyes. A small spark of life and hope had ignited in his friend's eyes and Amata was going to have to extinguish it.

"Damn, I never thought I would miss this place so much. Amata? Are you all right? You're making a funny face."

Amata got out of her thoughts and looked up at her friend.

"I... Uh... Yes, I'm fine..."

She bit her lip and looked down.

"Hey, what's going on?" Damian asked worriedly.

Amata took a deep breath and looked towards Damian.

"Damian... You... You're a hero... But you have to leave."

Damian stood still. His face tensed almost imperceptibly. Staring at the blank, he frowned slightly. He must have heard wrong.

"Uh... What?"

"You have to leave," Amata repeated in a breath.

The information took a few seconds to reach his brain and Damian stared at the young woman in amazement.

"Wait... Why?"

Amata lowered her eyes and bit her lip.

"Listen..."

"You!"

Everyone turned to Allen Mack who had just arrived in the hallway, accompanied by his two sons, Wally and Stevie.

Allen was wearing a security uniform, rolled up sleeves, pants inside his combat boots, assault rifle on his shoulder and baseball cap on his head. As far back as he could remember, Damian had always seen Allen Mack dressed like this and look like an elite soldier, as if war was about to break out in the Vault.

"You came back, huh? After all the damage you've done, you dare to come back, you little shit!"

Amata saw Damian clench his jaw and turn to Allen Mack.

"Officer Mack," she said. "As the new Overseer of Vault 101 order you to stand down, you and your sons."

"I won't take any order from you. I'm going to kick this piece of shit out, but first I'm going to take care of him for all the mess he and his father made last time."

He stepped forward, imitated by his two sons.

"You take one more step and you're dead."

They all stared at Damian. Allen Mack looked at his two sons. Stevie seemed hesitant, and Wally had his eyes fixed on Damian's hand on the handle of his gun.

"Come on, boys! You're men! You're not going to be intimidated by this piece of shit!"

"Yes, Stevie, don't let me intimidate you," Damian said. "Weren't you the one who wanted to stick one between my eyes? Or maybe you are like any security officer of the Vault. Strong with the weak, weak with the strong."

Stevie Mack became livid and his injured leg trembled.

"Shut up, you little bastard," Allen Mack spat out. "You're going to turn yourself in real nice, or..."

"Or what, Allen? What are you gonna do?"

Allen Mack turned red with anger. He unfurled his telescopic baton and moved towards Damian.

"You've always been a disrespectful and arrogant brat. Just like your father. I hope he got what he deserved."

Without anyone understanding, Damian had just disarmed Allen Mack and had pinned him against the wall and held the blade of a long military knife to Allen Mack's throat. Everyone looked at him, shocked. No one would have imagined Damian was capable of such a thing. He had always faded away in the Vault and had constantly been everyone's whipping boy and scapegoat.

Damian drew his pistol and pointed it at Stevie, who froze and yelped in terror. Wally stared at the barrel of the gun and at his father pinned against the wall.

"You move an eyelash and you're dead," Damian spat.

"He... He…"

Damian pressed the blade to Allen's throat to silence him.

"If you think I'm going to hesitate, then you're making a big mistake. I've fought and killed things far more frightening and threatening than you. So, it's not a wannabe soldier and a high-school bully with a police baton that's gonna scare me. I could kill the three of you in a blink of an eye, so don't you dare talk about my father again, or…"

"Freddie!"

Pepper Gomez broke into the hallway, followed by her husband. When she saw Damian pressing his trench knife at Allen Mack's throat and his gun pointed at Wally and Stevie, she froze and hiccupped in terror while her husband stared at Damian and Amata.

"Damian! Damian, stop it!"

Damian turned his head towards Amata. She looked bossy, but he could see the fear in her eyes. He turned to Allen Mack, stared at him for a few seconds and let go. The security guard slid against the wall. He looked up at Damian, his eyes filled with terror.

Damian glanced briefly at Wally and Stevie Mack, who had no intention of reacting and just stared at the gun, trembling.

"Officer Gomez, can you escort the Officers Mack to the cell, please?" Amata said without taking her eyes off Damian. "And release Mr. Brotch as well."

Gomez nodded silently and took Allen and his sons, while his wife and Freddie walked away in a whisper, eyes glued to Damian.

After a few seconds, Damian put the gun and his knife away.

Amata looked around her. Everyone was looking at her and Damian. The admiration in their eyes when Damian had returned had turned to pure terror.

Amata grabbed him by the arm and pulled him aside.

"Damian, what the hell are you playing at?"

"What? Allen tried to play with someone stronger than him and he lost."

Amata took a deep breath and her bossy air gave way to sadness.

"Listen, without you, the situation would never have evolved and who knows what would have happened. But there are still people here who blame you and your father for what happened. These people are wrong, but your presence would only make things worse, and doing what you just did won't change things. Do you really think that was necessary?"

"What do you think I should have done? Let it happen? Let them beat me up like they used to? They should be thankful to get away with it."

"Damian! You almost killed them! You threatened to kill them! That's... That's not the way things are going to work out!"

Damian remained silent, his eyes glued to Amata's face.

"You had something to tell me, or do you want to throw me away so you can be acclaimed by all for throwing the Wasteland Monster away?" Damian asked.

"Stop talking bullshit! Of course not!"

"So, maybe you'll explain that you asked me to solve your little problems and when it's over, I get a pat on the back and a _"Thank you for your contribution, watch your step while exiting the Vault_." Tell me, Amata, was this what you had planned all along? That I'd come back to clean up this mess, bring you the Overseer job on a platter and you'd kick me out like a dog? That was your plan? You also may have asked Allen and Wally to come over and give you the final argument for kicking me out?"

Damian felt Amata's hand slap his cheek. Amata felt as if a dagger had just been thrust into her heart. Seeing her best friend, the person she loved the most in the Vault after her father, tell her these things was heartbreaking. She looked at Damian and could barely contain her angers and her tears and the shudders in her voice.

"Do you hear what you're saying? Do you think this was really what I had planned? Do you think I could do that? Do this to you? I didn't ask those idiots to come and provoke you! You think this is a decision I'm making out of the goodness of my heart? You think I take pleasure in telling my best friend to leave, again? Well no, but as the Overseer, I have a duty to act in the best interests of the Vault! And waving your gun around like a maniac and responding to the slightest provocation is not going to make things right between you and Vault!

"'_The best interests of the Vault'_," Damian laughed scornfully. "The same one that caused Jonas' death and forced me to run away the first time? Is it the same interest that your father invoked to keep you underground? You're just like your father."

Amata did not answer and felt her heart tighten even more. The spark of hope she had seen in Damian's eyes had died. His eyes had returned to the same aspect as when he had presented himself to her, cold and dead.

"You know what," Damian said, without showing the slightest emotion. "I should have left you to rot."

"Damian, listen, I..."

"No, you're the one who's going to listen to me," Damian cut brutally. "If I came, it's because you're the one who called me. If someone else had called, I wouldn't even have listened to the message. Everyone in that Vault treated me like I was plague-ridden and looked at me like I was a stain of shit underneath their shoes. Only three people treated me like a human being in that Vault. Two of them died, and the third one..."

He left his sentence hanging and shook his head, an expression of deep disgust on his face.

"You have no idea what I went through on the surface. I walked through the ruins of a dead civilization, searching for the only family I had. I watched my father sacrifice himself and die of radiation poisoning to save me. I have explored the darkest corners of the human soul and fought against the mutant abominations born from the radioactive ashes of the old world. I fought armies of mutants, Raiders, slavers and sick murderers and was even willing to sacrifice my life to bring clean water to the Wasteland and make it a better place. And if I did it, it was for one reason. I hoped that when it was over, I could come back and live in the Vault, my home, with you, because you're my best friend. But it looks like I got it all wrong and that friendship doesn't mean that much to you."

Amata closed her eyes, desperately holding back her tears.

"Don't make things harder," she managed to articulate. "Go away, please."

Damian stared at her for a few seconds. He began to walk away into the hallway without saying a word.

"Wai... Wait!"

Amata caught him by the wrist.

"At least let me walk you to the door."

Damian did not answer. He did not turn around and just shrugged. Amata stood next to him and together they walked to the entrance of the Vault.

The walk took place in a heavy silence. Amata glanced at Damian. Damian was looking straight ahead, impassive. On the way, they met some residents who stared at him, their faces alternating between surprise and contempt. Damian ignored them and Amata prayed that none of them would have the bad idea to provoke him.

When they arrived at the entrance of the Vault, Amata closed the door leading to the corridor, leaving her alone with her friend. Damian faced the door and was checking the straps on his armor and weapons.

"Damian, I..."

"Open the damn door," the young man spat.

Amata clenched her jaw. She had done everything she could to make Damian understand that this decision to make him leave was as painful for her as it was for him, but he did not want to know anything about it.

Angry and annoyed, she opened the door of the Vault. The alarm began to sound, and the orange flashing light came on, and the heavy steel gear door opened, revealing the cave where the Vault had been built.

Damian stepped over the large rail where the door was attached and began to walk into the cave.

"Wait!"

Amata had advanced to the threshold of the door. Damian turned around, still impassive, and watched her. She held her arm and looked down to the left, with a slight embarrassed smile on her face. A posture she had always adopted when she was in an embarrassing situation.

"What?" Damian hissed.

"You... You're still my friend, Damian and... I don't want us to leave each other like this and I sincerely hope you understand why I'm doing this."

Damian remained silent. He stared inside the Vault for a few seconds before responding.

"I don't have any friend in here. The only friends I have are the ones I fought with and almost died with, in the Wasteland. I'm sure they'd never put the wellbeing of a bunch of scornful assholes ahead of their friends. Unlike you."

Amata was stunned.

"It's not…"

"I have nothing else to say to you. Or rather, yes, in fact. Don't bother trying to call me for help if shit hits the fan in the Vault again. I won't come back."

He turned toward the cave and walked away, coming to a stop again. Amata then saw him grab a small rectangular piece of paper from the inside pocket of his military jacket.

He crumpled the small paper, turned around and threw it at the young woman's feet. Amata picked it up. She realized it was a picture of her and Damian. It was the photo she had discreetly slipped into his pocket when they had said goodbye last time. Damian had obviously kept it with him at all times since his escape.

Amata felt as if the ground was collapsing right under her feet.

"Oh, almost forgot. Congratulations on your promotion, Overseer," Damian said sarcastically.

Amata raised her head towards him. She opened her mouth but could not make a sound.

"May you lead Vault 101 to a bright future."

Damian turned around and headed for the cave exit. Amata watched him walk away. The alarm sounded again, and the door closed automatically.

Damian left the cave. He found himself on the promontory overlooking the ruins of Springvale. In the distance, the ghostly lines of the D.C. ruins stood out in the night sky.

He walked slowly to his house at Megaton. Once inside, he locked the door. Wadsworth welcomed him. Damian did not answer and initialized the robot's maintenance protocol. The Mister Handy walked away to a corner of the cabin and deactivated himself.

Damian put down his bag and removed his armor, before dropping onto the couch, staring into the void. He felt a tear running down his cheek.

"_All the people you're close to end up dying or leaving you. That's a sad thing."_

Tobar's voice echoed in Damian's head.

He kicked the coffee table in front of him, knocking over what was on it. He jumped on his legs and grabbed his assault rifle and used it to knock over the various objects he had picked up from the ruins. He threw his rifle and threw the coffee table into a corner, before jumping over the couch and heading towards the kitchen, where he broke everything he could get his hands on.

He was in a state of uncontrolled rage and sadness. Anything that was not sealed to the floor would end up being thrown across the room, broken under his boots or smashed against a wall. He climbed upstairs and ravaged the workbench he had set up there a few days earlier. He grabbed the large jukebox that Moira had given him and swung it over the mezzanine railing. The large tape player crashed to the floor in a metallic crash as Damian leaned over the railing and screamed.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Stay tuned for the last "official" chapter of this story.**

**Until next time.**


	76. Chapter 76: The hardest decision to make

**Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.**

**Today, is the last chapter of the story (minus the epilog which is in theory the last chapter, but anyway)**

**It is a short chapter. I had initially planned to put it at the end of chapter 75, but I wanted to have what happens here in a seperate chapter.**

**Just wanted to thank everyone of you who favorite, followed, reviewed or just simply read the story.**

**Please enjoy**

* * *

_(One week later)_

"Come in."

The door to Lyons' office opened and Damian walked in. Behind the desk, Sarah closed the file she was reading and put it in a drawer before turning to Damian.

Two days after his visit to Vault 101, Damian had learned of the death of Elder Lyons. The old man had died peacefully in his sleep. Although mourning, the Brotherhood had held its head high and it was Sarah who had taken over from her father. The role was a perfect fit for her, but as Damian watched her, he had noticed that for her, sitting behind a desk reading reports of operations was more punishment than anything else, and he suspected that the young woman was secretly praying for a new threat to rise from the ruins of D.C. to allow her to return to where she felt most comfortable, on the front lines with the Pride.

This morning, Sarah had donned the blue dress of Elder, and Damian was still enjoying watching her peeping at the battle dress of her men or at Damian's Ranger armor.

Sarah invited Damian to sit down and offer him a cup of coffee, and Damian nodded.

"I heard that you were planning to leave D.C.," said Sarah as she looked at the young man.

"Yes," Damian said with a sigh.

The idea of leaving and leaving the Wasteland had been running through his mind ever since his visit to the Vault. Living close to the Vault and those who had driven him from his home had become too difficult and although leaving his friends behind was difficult, Damian had decided to leave the Capital Wasteland and look for a place to live, where he would not be cheered every time he left his home. He still owned the alien ship and could always keep an eye on his companions from the sky.

Sarah looked down at Damian's bag at the foot of the desk and noticed that he had already put on his poncho. Nothing seemed to be able to change his mind. Sarah sighed and stood up.

"Knight, may the Steel be with you."

She stood at attention and greeted Damian.

"I'll see you to the door."

Sarah led Damian into the courtyard. They stopped by the gate. Sarah Lyons watched Damian, checking his equipment, his large duffel bag over his shoulder and his assault rifle across his chest.

Damian took one last look in the direction of the inner courtyard of the Citadel. The place, as usual, was swarming with activity, between the initiates in full training, the scribes and mechanics working on the Vertibirds seized to the Enclave, and the comings and goings of the patrols.

"Goodbye, Sarah. Take care of yourselves."

He stared at the young woman for a few seconds and offered her his hand. Sarah looked at him for a few seconds and smiled.

"Goodbye, Damian."

She approached and instead of shaking his hand, embraced him for a brief moment. She moved back and readjusted her dress for the umpteenth time before throwing a broad smile.

"Be careful. And if the urge to save the world comes back to you, call us, and we'll be here in the blink of an eye."

Damian smiled and greeted Sarah one last time and walked away to the door.

"Actually, Sarah, there's…"

Damian turned around and searched his words for a few seconds.

"I have a favor to ask you. Could you, please, take care of…"

"If it's about what's behind the Jefferson Memorial, don't worry. I have it already set as a top priority."

Damian smiled and nodded before leaving the Citadel.

"Farewell, Lone Wanderer," whispered the young woman with a smile before returning to her duties as an Elder.

Damian crossed the Potomac towards Rivet City. The day before, he had gone to Seward Square to see Reilly and the Rangers and say goodbye. The Rangers had done everything they could to convince him to stay, so much so that Damian thought they would lock him up in their headquarters.

He had arrived at the Jefferson Memorial. The purifier was still working at full capacity and the water caravans were piling up at the entrance and lining up to load the barrels with the precious liquid.

Damian walked around the monument and arrived in front of his parents' graves. He wanted to talk to them one last time before he left the Capital Wasteland. Then he had decided to find a remote place in the ruins and call the crew of the alien ship to be teleported there. From there, he could reach any place in the world.

He looked at the two crosses silently, not knowing what to say.

"Dad, Mom, I've decided I'm going to leave D.C.," he finally said. I tried my best to make this place a little more livable, with the help of the Brotherhood and the Rangers."

He looked at the ruins in the distance and sighed before turning to the crosses again.

"I must go. I love you. Goodbye, Mom. Dad."

Damian walked away from the two crosses and walked back to the front door of the museum. He hesitated for a moment to enter one last time but gave up at the last moment. He looked in the direction of the Citadel and thought of Alice Hood. He had said goodbye to everyone but her.

He noticed that the two sentries at the Museum's door seemed more interested by the back of a young woman crouching a little further towards the dyke that was sprawling the Tidal Basin from the river, than by their guard duty.

Intrigued, Damian approached. On hearing him, the young woman got up with a start and turned around.

"Al... Scribe Hood? What are you doing here?"

Damian noticed that the young woman was not wearing her scribe's dress, but jeans, big boots, and a gray jacket over a T-shirt. Hood readjusted her jacket and Damian found himself thinking that the young woman looked particularly attractive in this outfit. He shook his head and looked down and noticed the large bag at the young scribe's feet.

"Are you... Are you going on a mission?" the young woman asked.

"No, I... I have decided to leave and leave the Capital Wasteland."

"Oh, I see," said the young scribe sadly.

"And what about you? I thought that the Brotherhood Scribes were assigned to patrols and that they did not go alone to the ruins."

Hood looked down at her bag.

"Oh, I... I've decided to leave the Brotherhood. I just came here, to see Mary one last time. The Scribe who's taking care of her works at the purifier. The whole staff loves her."

"But… Why do you want to leave?" Damian asked immediately.

He cursed himself internally for his lack of tact, realizing that the reasons that would push the young woman to this decision were none of his business.

"I... I need to leave. I love the Brotherhood and its members, but... I've lost too many friends, whether it was the Battle of the Purifier or the Battle of Adams Air Force Base. Without them, life in the Brotherhood isn't the same."

Hood glanced at the Citadel and sighed.

"What are you going to do?" Damian asked.

The young woman shrugged.

"I don't know what I'm going to do. Apart from studying technology, there's nothing much I can do. I'm not very good with weapons either. Maybe Rivet City or Megaton will have a place for me to settle or..."

"You... You could also come with me."

Hood turned and stared at Damian. His words had gone beyond his thoughts. He began to think about what Tobar had said and his outburst of rage in his house at Megaton. Everyone he got close to died or abandoned him. He looked at the young woman. He did not want that to happen with her. He did not want her to leave. Damian looked away and found a sudden interest in the ruins of D.C. which he stared at insistently.

"Well, I mean, I... I thought that... Having a Brotherhood Scribe with me might come in handy and that we… Actually, I…"

"Yes."

Damian looked at the young woman. She was smiling. Damian smiled back. Hood grabbed her bag and they crossed the dyke and went up the river and past the ruins of downtown.

"Where do you plan to go?" Hood asked as they walked along the north side of the D.C. ruins.

"I don't know. Why not West? The Appalachia have always attracted me."

Hood frowned. She looked behind her.

"You know that the West is behind us, right?"

"I know," Damian answered. "I just have something to do here first."

"What?" asked the young woman, a little suspicious. "All of the Brotherhood's reports on this area indicate that there is nothing but old residential areas in ruins."

"This is a surprise."

Damian stopped in the middle of a street and looked around.

"Perfect," he said after making sure they were alone.

He turned to Hood who was staring at him, frowning. Damian reached into his pocket and grabbed the alien beacon.

"What's that?" Hood asked.

Damian noticed that the young woman's eyes sparkled with curiosity and her personality as a Brotherhood Scribe took over and he could not help but smile.

"That's part of the surprise," Damian answered.

He looked up at the sky and Hood imitated him with a frown.

"Do you trust me?" Damian asked.

Hood nodded.

"Okay, stay close to me."

Damian raised the remote control. Just as he was about to press the button, he felt something against his hand. He looked down and saw that Hood had moved her fingers closer. She grabbed Damian's hand and squeezed.

Damian looked up at her. She looked at the ruins and a slight smile appeared on her lips. Damian smiled. He looked at the ruins one last time.

"Ready? he asked, turning his head towards Alice.

The young woman nodded.

Damian pressed the beacon and the next moment a white flash enveloped them.

The crackling of the teleportation evaporated into the air and gave way to the slight whistle of the wind and the silence of the Wasteland.

* * *

**Right, so I think I might have to give a few explainations here, in case some of you facepalmed so hard reading this that your hand went through your head or that you have already booked a plane for France to kick my ass when the quarantine is over.**

**I wanted to put some kind of romance in the story, but I suck at writing this kind of thing, so some of you might think that the "romance" with Hood is out of the blue.**

**My initial plan was to have Damian leave with Amata, who was supposed to leave the Vault, find him, tell him she loved him all along and they would leave with the Zeta MS.**

**Thing is, aside the fact that a LW/Amata romance is über cliché, I kept having a feeling of déjà vu while wrinting it, mainly because I had already read it in a story I'm currently reading, which made me ditch the idea and to replace Amata with Alice**

**Why her and not Sarah/Reilly/Lucy or even Sydney, some of you migt ask.**

**Sarah is my favorite character in FO3 but for me, she acts more like a friend or maybe a big sister for the LW, especially for Damian. Same for Reilly in a way. Besides, for me she dates Butcher. Also, I can't really imagine these two leaving the CW with the Lone Wanderer for some peaceful life or else. D.C. is their home.**

**Lucy? Never really think about it.**

**Sydney? For me, she is with Emaline.**

**It leaves us with Amata, which I didn't choose for obvious reasons (I'm sure a lot of other stories have her and the LW together so it's repetitive, plus, she basically stabs you in the back in that Vault quest) and an original character. But why her. Well, first, I really like creating the character, even though you don't see her much and having the LW with a OC is far more enjoyable in my opinion.**

**I hope it was not completly super strange to have her and Damian together at the end, or super cringy or else.**

**Anyway, Thanks again for reading. I hope you enjoyed the chapter (and the whole story obviously) as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

**I'll be posting the epilog in 1-2 days, so, until next time.**


	77. Epilog

The floor was cold, rough, and loose. The man felt the small grains of sand and earth stinging his cheek. He stood up slowly and blinked several times. His head and back were sore, and he felt a warm, sticky liquid running down his temple and neck.

He looked down at his hands and noticed that they were tied with a thick rope. He became agitated and tried to untie them.

"Guess who's waking up over here?"

The man stopped fidgeting and slowly looked up. His gaze hit a small earthen wall about three feet high and then he saw the ground. He was in a hole. Around him, a dozen people surrounded him. Men and women, dressed in jeans, combat boots, with tattoos and extravagant haircuts or improbable moustaches. All had the same sleeveless leather jacket, with a patch on the chest, representing a moustache skull, wearing a helmet with horns and a point on the top.

They all glanced at the bound man with looks ranging from total indifference to amusement. They were all armed with rifles or submachineguns. One of them, with a blonde mohawk and a green bandana on his forehead, was leaning on a shovel, planted in the ground, and looking at him. Seeing this, the bound man looked around him, and saw that he was actually in a grave.

Around him were other wooden stelae, roughly carved, each planted in the ground facing a small mound of earth. The cemetery was in the shadow of an old water tower with rusty pillars and all around it, great desert hills and in the distance, a great white tower, shining like a lighthouse in the night.

He heard footsteps and raised his head towards a man who stood out from the rest of the group. He was wearing a white suit with black checks and polished shoes covered with a thin layer of dust. With a cigarette in the corner of his lips, a sneaky little look, and an actor's head he blew the smoke from his cigarette and flicked the butt away.

"You've made your last delivery, kid," he said, dipping his hand into his jacket.

He took out a small metallic grey chip and twirled it between his fingers. He looked at the small object with stars in his eyes and his smile became slightly more pronounced.

"Sorry you got twisted up this scene," he sighed.

The tied man was unable to say a word. He did not understand what these people wanted from him.

The man in the suit stowed the small token in the inside pocket of his jacket. When his hand came out, he was holding a polished pistol with a pearly grip.

He watched the man tied up in front of him, then his gun and sighed.

"From where you're kneeling it must seem like an 18-carat run of bad luck. Truth is... The game was rigged from the start."

The man in the suit rattled the safety on his gun. He raised it towards the man in the grave and aimed the barrel at his head.

He stared at him for a few more seconds.

"What's your name?"

"Damian," replied the man in the grave. "Damian Franklin."


End file.
